Meat's back on the menu
by willgreaham
Summary: While they are on the run after the season 3 finale, Will learnes to accept Hannibal fully and they start a new life. But soon their past catches up with them as Alana, Margot and Jack see their lives in danger. Dark!Will and Hannigram. Rated M because there will be some violence and cannibalism.
1. Chapter 1

Motionless Hannibal stood alone, taking in the night with all his senses, while his mind seemed to be wandering around. He almost blended in with the darkness.

Even though Hannibal's back was turned to him, Will could tell that his eyes where closed as he was facing the starry night sky.  
He often saw Hannibal spending the evenings outside like this and was sure he would find him in his memory palace. But he had avoided visiting him in Norman Chapel or his office for a while now. While their conversations seemed easier now, a few days ago, they both had felt each others resentment. It was subtle, but it was there. Both there physical wounds and their psychological ones still had been hurting.

"The wound is looking better," Hannibal had said as he removed the bandage around Will's chest, bending over him. "Seems to be no infection here. The stitches are a mess, but taking into consideration that Dr. Ramirez did it with the barrel of a gun in his neck that doesn't surprise me."  
He said it in a distant voice, as if he was inspecting the work of a medical student on a body.

"You know that I didn't abduct him to treat me," Will replied.

Indeed Dr. Ramirez wouldn't have been his first choice if he had have one, but Hannibal had seemed more dead than alive after Will had pulled him out of the water. Before they had reached the shore he hadn't been sure if Hannibal had survived at all.

"Then I can consider myself lucky that I'm neither dead nor lost any of my organs. Two things I can't say about him," He noticed dryly. After a pause he added, "Well, At least his meat was good for something."

Hannibal disinfected the wound, to which Will reacted with sucking in the air sharply through his teeth. his fractured rips made him immediately regret that.

"Breath calmly, Will," Hannibal reminded him as he reached for the new bandage one the night stand. Biting his teeth together Will followed the advise and Hannibal continued to inspect his injuries. His eyes rested on the stabbing wound on his face, which didn't look nearly as bad anymore as it did before Hannibal had set the stitches. "I'm glad you had the patience to wait until I could treat this one." Even though his words were caring, they sounded reserved. "does it still hurt?"

Will nodded "yeah.."

It appeared as if Hannibal wanted to say something, but then he bend over him again to bandage Will's chest. In his head Will could hear him whisper ' _good'_ into his ear.  
With a sigh Will sunk back into his pillows after Hannibal was finished. Since Hannibal could only use his right arm, due to a fracture on the other, Will always had to help him when in came to activities that required two hands, such as bandaging.

"It will take time for both of us to heal, to get the possibly to live a life I offered you right away," Hannibal said as he leaned away from the bed. In his eyes Will could see a sense of disappointment, but no hate or anger towards him.

Will would have guessed Hannibal was proud that he finally had pushed him so far that he gave in to him and yet he understood his resentment about happened after it. But it wasn't about the fact that he almost killed both of them. Pushing them off the cliff was in a way a decision against them, a disregard of trust.

The coldness in Hannibal's voice when he spoke to Will didn't last forever. After a few days his eyes didn't avoid Will's anymore and the atmosphere when they where together in one room wasn't as strained as before. Yet he made sure that a certain distance always remained between the two of them, which Will interpreted as something necessary for Hannibal going through the process of forgiving him. He understood that Hannibal had to take a look at him from far away to be sure to make a wise decision.

In a sense Will appreciated the distance, he himself had to arrange all kinds of thoughts and values that were swirling around in his head.

Nonetheless they carefully made the first steps to get comfortable with each other again. Sometimes they would sit beside each other in silence reading, listening to classical music or watching the news. Conversations started at the dinner table, on which Hannibal had prepared Dr. Ramirez' meat and now and then he invited Will into the kitchen to help him with the food.

For a few more moments Will watched the figure through the glass of the terrace door, his own reflection standing beside it, then he opened it slowly and stepped outside.  
Walking still wasn't an entirely painless act, but the crutches made it a lot easier. After a week most bruises weren't visible anymore, but his fractured leg had yet to come to heal just like two of his ribs and the wounds that Dolarhyde's knife had inflicted. However, Will enjoyed the mobility he was slowly regaining, after days in the bed and the wheelchair.  
Slowly he made his way to the railing of the terrace, stopping right behind Hannibal. Without doubt Hannibal had already noticed him, yet he remained motionless until Will put his hand on his shoulder.  
He opened his eyes and took a deep breath.

"I'm glad I could get you to give up that horrible aftershave," he broke the silence.

"I know."

"Are you feeling better today, Will?" Hannibal asked as he turned around to him, his eyes wandering over Will's body.

"Not so much," he admitted." but I just had the urge to step outside for a while. I need some fresh air," he replied, slowly taking his hand off Hannibal's shoulder, making a step forward to lean himself and the crutches against the wooden railing.

"How is your arm?"

"It's an annoyance, but I will be able to use it again soon. "

Will nodded. Once Hannibal's injuries had almost killed him, now the only visible injury was his broken arm in a cast, that he carried in front of him in a noose, which Will guessed, Hannibal was eager to get rid of.

For few minutes they didn't say anything. The only sounds they could hear were the noises of the forest and each others breathing. Standing on the terrace and looking at the landscape was almost like looking at a whole new world in front of them.

"It's beautiful out here, isn't it? Almost like an artist composed this scene…" Hannibal's eyes wandered over the dark pine trees under the starry night sky and then finally to Will.

"Almost as if he composed it for us…." Will agreed.

"In a way we both painted this picture, Will," Hannibal pondered. " We kept adding layers and layers of paint, but it didn't become what it is now until you chose another tone."

"The picture was too beautiful to look at, too destructive for everybody else." A certain bitterness lay in his voice.

Hannibal's eyes were piercing him. "And yet you didn't want to live without it."

"Seems like my true nature has followed me all along and was just waiting to be set free… I don't think it is that simple."

He would love to tell Hannibal that it was simple to him, that after all the mind games everything in his head was in perfect order. But he was still trying to fit different pieces, trying to get a definite picture.

"Things become incredibly simple if we give into to what is our true nature. The struggle begins when we try to disconnect from it," Hannibal sighed. „See, The picture is even more destructive now. Looking at the destroyed work set all of your loved ones back into a state of blindness once again, maybe in a state of grief."

Will wasn't sure anymore if he could call them his loved ones and he also wasn't sure if relieve didn't outweigh the grief. However, blinding them for sure hadn't been his initial intention, and he held a certain aversion towards the idea that he could be perceived as the tragic hero.

"Their grief was the better alternative," Will said, running his fingers over his jaw. "I couldn't crawl back to Molly, with nothing but you on my mind."

"It was quite a delight to see you flourish under all that blood, Will." Hannibal watched him with interest. "What I ask myself is," he continued. "did Jack have to act out of recklessness or did he already know his lamb would show its teeth to me."

„Did you?" Will countered.

Hannibal leaned forward, his arms on the railing carrying his weight. Even though he tried to hide it, Will could see that Hannibal's injuries didn't allow him to stand or walk without pain yet.

„It was trust I fell victim to, but this isn't something unknown in the relationship, is it?" Regret and a hint of fear of the following words showed on Wills face. „You blinded me more than once."

Gaining Hannibal Lecters trust and fooling him must have been quite an achievement, but Will was everything else than proud of it.

„Jack thought I would kill you. He counted on it. Maybe he fell victim to trusting me as well."

Hannibal scrutinized him carefully. „And did you overlook your own potential when you convinced him that he was right about you? Did you think that telling him everything was under control could make it true?."

Like always Hannibal elicited him the sometimes uncomfortable truth about himself.

„I hadn't made my choice yet. I had abandoned the part that was so drawn to you to the darkest corner in my mind."

"But it was always there. Even after three years you couldn't quite shake it off."

He had the feeling he never would want to get rid of it ever again. And yet all of it was still so hard to come to terms with. Just like the healing of his wounds, the process of digesting what had happened seemed easier for Hannibal than for him.

"In the end it was what made me hesitate and at same time what drove me to do it." A sigh escaped his mouth. "Finally embracing you after ripping the dragon apart made me feel closer to myself then ever before...I was closer to you...", he uttered. "I was tempted to rest my head on your shoulder forever." Shyly he turned his head to Hannibal, finding him looking back into his eyes.

He remembered that moment vividly. Every part of his body had been in pain, but the adrenalin and the beauty of the kill had made him forget about it. In his ears Hannibal's heart beat had echoed, and the warmth of his body had made him feel home. Only slowly the realization of what all of this meant had come to his mind and a part of him just did the only thing that seemed rational in that moment. It was just one moment, just an impulse.

"I can't deny that I was hoping you would overcome this pattern and accept who you are after all. After resisting getting rid of all moral responsibility when it was so tempting, what speaks against fully abandoning it now?" His tone was rather suggesting than scrutinizing, and yet it demanded an honest answer.

"Every step I took away from you, just got me closer to you." Will shook his head. "there is no point in going back."

Hannibal pushed himself away from the railing to stand on both of his feet again, breathing in sharply, as he had to carry his own weight again. Slowly Will turned to him, continuing,

"You once told me that you care about my life and not the ones that I save..…" He thought about it for a moment. "I don't save lives anymore. I'm clear about what life I care about now." He looked Hannibal directly in the eyes as the words left his lips. It was a promise and a decision.  
Deep down he could feel that the part of him that decided to betray Hannibal instead of blurring with him was still alive. But it too was accepting now, while the other part of his mind was madly in love with Hannibal Lecter and the idea of hunting with him.

He sucked in the air as Hannibal was reaching for his neck, pulling Will's body closer to his own. Careful to not inflict more pain, Wills fingers dug into Hannibal's shoulder as he let go of the railing. Their eyes were glancing into each other. Being that close to Hannibal had something intimate and comforting, but at the same time touch between the two of them had almost always been followed by pain.

"Your fall as a tragic hero turned out to our advantage. For the public the picture is complete, since the Dragon managed to capture it more or less well," Hannibal said.

For once the Dragons obsession with filming the death of his victims, had been helpful to them.

"They all believe the ocean devoured us. There might be nothing in our way anymore."

Without any rush the hand that was holding his neck pushed through his messy locks, making its way to his face. He enjoyed the warmth that Hannibal's touch caused on his skin. Exploring the structure of the bones his fingers stopped for a moment to then follow the lines of the scar that hasn't been on there for too long.  
Wills lips curled to a smile.

"I guess we will have to devour them then," Hannibal said playfully.

The words echoed in Will's head.


	2. Chapter 2

As she closed the door behind her Bedelia Du Maurier was welcomed by the warmth of her home. When she had left in the afternoon it had been almost warm outside, but with the evening it had gotten colder outside and the wind had crawled under her thin coat.  
With a sigh she took it off and hung it on the wardrobe besides the mirror, only allowing herself a brief glance at her reflection.  
She walked right to her living room, that had served as a location for her therapy sessions, to chose a bottle from her cognac collection. After taking a few bottles and putting them back she picked one and poured its content in her glass. She wasn't really eager to drink at the moment, but it had become a habit of hers.  
Taking a sip she starred out of the glass door onto the garden. The sky had darkened so that she could see her reflection with the lights on, but the shapes in her garden were still recognizable.  
Sometimes this view evoked the feeling in her that a shape didn't fit in and someone was standing there and watching her. Usually she could shake this feeling off, but today the coldness that had crawled under her skirt and had now reached her neck, didn't go away.

She focused her gaze on her own reflection in the transparent mirror just to turn her eyes to the bottom of her glass, which was still covered by golden liquid. With one gulp she emptied it and let it bang on the table. The alcohol tasted bitter in her mouth.  
Her and her reflection's eyes met again and as she quickly walked closer all she could find in them was fear and frustration. As always she couldn't stand that look in her eyes. Vigorous she pulled the white curtains together, careful to leave no gap between them.  
Despite there was no signs for it Bedelia couldn't shake off the feeling that something wasn't right. But then again fear and suspicion had followed her ever since the morning Jack Crawford had told her about the death of Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham.

The feeling of relief she had expected to come with their end hadn't lasted very long and was soon replaced by memories and feelings she would have liked to cast away.

Over and over again she had watched the blurred video material that showed a fair amount of the fight between the two men and Francis Dolarhyde as well as their last embrace, just to remind herself that Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter left the frame falling into the sea.  
However, she couldn't help herself but think about if this suicide was mutual. Did it apply to Hannibal Lecter as well, that he couldn't live with Will the way he was and yet couldn't live without him? After all there was no sound to the video and she could only make assumptions what their last words to each other might have been. In some moments her curiosity was bigger than her fear.

Bedelia looked at the two chairs across from each other, which stood untouched in the middle of the room. The last people that had sat there were her and two ghosts. Even now she could still see Will Graham sitting there, talking about Hannibal Lecter.

Noticing how tired her legs felt she sat down in one of the chairs, falling into the soft cushion. Her body fell out of the usual straightness, as she leaned to the back of the chair and her eyelids slowly closed while her mind was drifting away.  
In her head the voices of Hannibal and Will whispered, frightening her and giving her a familiar feeling at the same time. Slowly Hannibal's voice got louder, forced itself into reality and tore Bedelia back to her office.

"Good evening, Bedelia."

Slowly she opened her eyes, trying to orientate. The Room was much darker now. She must have slept a few hours. As she focused she recognized the blurred image of Dr. Lecter in font of her. As if there was nothing out of the usual about him being in her house, he sat in the chair across from her, one leg crossing the other. Bedelia closed her eyes again, trying to ban this product of her imagination.

"Is my assumption that you didn't expect guests, too far fetched?" Hannibal said instead of vanishing. "You certainly were smart enough to suspect this, but too curious to leave."

As she starred at him, his words echoing in her head, she froze. To her it didn't even seem so unreal to see Hannibal here and yet his appearance was like a shock that woke her up from a dream. Maybe the fact that her former patient was here hadn't made itself comfortable yet, but it prevented her from loosing calmness and control over herself.

"You're not here to invite me to a second trip to Florence, I suppose." The words came out as weak as she felt.

"My visit rather has the purpose to catch up on what the circumstances of our stay in Florence didn't grant us", he confirmed. "When I last saw you, you invited me to dinner."

She had never had a doubt that he would keep his promise if there was an opportunity. In the time of his incarceration she was for once sure what her end would look like. His prison in the end was only stone, and how could stone built a barrier to the appetite of Hannibal Lecter? But to climb the barrier of death one had to be quite hungry.

She opened her mouth, but before words could escape from it a wet fabric forced itself over her lips. Hectically she tried to tear it off, but the strong hands that were covering her mouth and holding back her shoulders didn't move a bit. It forced her to breath and to inhale the smell. In her everything began twirl and soon her arms settled beside her legs and she could feel how she started to lose consciousness. A satisfied smile appeared on Hannibal's face, not headed to her but to the person behind the chair. And to who else would he smile like that, than Will Graham? That was her last thought. In the next moment the weigh on her shoulders loosened and before she drifted into unconsciousness, a needle drilled itself into her left arm.

Will walked up and down the room, a glass with cognac in his Hand. Earlier on he had looked through Bedelia Du Maurier's collection of bottles and had finally found himself a good drink. Like the range of different bottles the range of different rooms in this house - each and everyone of them furnished with taste - wasn't small. It was unlikely that she used all of them, considering she lived alone, and Will had chosen one that seemed to be a second living room. It was a little smaller and darker than the one where he and Bedelia had held their therapy sessions, but it had an appeal to it.

Now his eyes were wandering over the beige painted walls with the wooden paneling, then and now searching the garden through the window.  
Taking another sip of cognac Will watched the figure in the chair. Her eyes were still closed, but the sleepy movements of her head and fingers told him that Bedelia was about to wake up.  
Patiently he waited until she had reached consciousness again and until her eyes had found him.

"Hello Bedelia."

Will put down his glass on the glass table besides the chairs, always keeping an eye on her.

"You've almost slept 18 hours.", He explained as he noticed her eyes wandering to the darkening sky beyond the window. It was almost 7 pm.

"What have you done?", she uttered as she slowly pushed herself out of the chair in an attempt to stand up. Not surprised by this move, Will stepped to her side. For one second she could keep herself upright just to fall down in the next. Unimpressed Will intervened. Before she could hit the floor, he had grabbed her by the arm and waist to move her limp body back to the chair.

"It's not very smart to try to get up on your own after a surgery", Will said calmly, as she sunk back into the cushion. "Especially after an amputation."

It hit her, but she didn't dare to catch a glimpse of what he just had described to her.  
Her Hands groped for her left leg, but all her fingers could find was a soft fabric laying flat on the chair, where the curvature of her flesh was supposed to be.

"Don't worry, Hannibal has taken care of your leg. It will soon be a part of your body again."

"I'll have the pleasure to eat it.", She replied dryly, trying her best to get control over her drugged self.

"You should have left when you had the chance, Bedelia. Running with one leg might present some difficulties."

He unbuttoned his Jacked and sat down on the chair across from her.

Ignoring his scoffing tone she noted,"I was foolish to hope that you were prevented from ever returning. But your death was just a well told lie…"

"A lie that was hard to believe for you, I suppose. It might give you some relieve, that I never planned this.", Will corrected her.

He had to wait for her answer, since Bedelia still appeared to shift between a state of being awake and almost unconscious.

"I saw Dolarhyde's film.."

"Freddy Lounds published it?" he raised an eyebrow. As someone who tried to avoid any kind of articles written by her, it maybe wasn't all to surprising that he might have missed the release of the video. But it didn't sit well with him that Lounds once again got the opportunity to commercialize him and his relationship with Hannibal Lecter.

To his delight she denied his assumption. "Jack showed it to me. He thought I could clarify how all of this could happen."

"Did he get his answer?"

She took a deep breath, scrutinizing him like one would look at a Lion."Seeing you cutting Dolarhyde into pieces together with Hannibal didn't surprise me. The defeat of one beast created an even more dangerous monster, didn't it?"

The expression on her face was unafraid and curious, her eyes knowing.

"Put it that way, if you want to."

"I don't want to," she denied. "It's good to know that you didn't assist the devil in escaping once again. That was a wise decision." She looked him in the eyes, seemingly searching for something in there that agreed. But she only found coldness in them, which she remarked with, "...One that I hardly believe you are proud of now."

Will smiled sourly. "It was the only decision I allowed myself to make in that moment."

"Then it must have been horrible to see your best intentions had failed, when you woke up to him…"

"Is this supposed to be a therapy session?"

Even through the veil of medication, Bedelia was a sharp observer, maybe even someone who would try her luck with manipulating him.

"It might be our last one."

He decided not to resist. It was almost two month ago he had talked to someone that wasn't Hannibal Lecter.

Running his fingers over his chin he leaned backwards. "I felt like I had betrayed Jack Crawford. It was devastating, no matter from what angle I looked at it.", He told her truthfully.

After his near death, his world had been in pieces.

"How do you think Jack felt about your murder suicide?"

Bedelia had asked a question that had been spinning around in his head without rest after he had saved himself and Hannibal. After all, he had thought often, Jack Crawford had to be happier with this version of the story than reality. Hannibal didn't get him, and yet Jack lost him. Maybe that could still be considered something like a victory. But it must also have been a defeat. He had lost a second Miriam Lass.

"Killing Hannibal was what he intended me to do…maybe it didn't matter what the prize of it was…." He swallowed. "All this time I was his lure. He left it drifting in the water, waiting until the fish would accompany it." Will snorted contemptuously. "It must have hurt his ego."

"Seeing you fall in love with Hannibal?"

"His lure learned to swim."

"Maybe his lure always was a fish.…"  
Bedelia tilted her head and pierced him with her gaze.

And she was right, being a killer maybe had always been in his blood, but that didn't diminish what role Jack had played.

"Jack Crawford has no right to hold any resentment against me. He shouldn't forget who went out fishing."

"I don't think Jack holds any resentment against you. Does Hannibal?" she asked sceptically, a frown on her forehead.

"I'm regaining my trustworthiness at this very moment."

He enjoyed the tensed facial expression on Bedelia's face, as she recognized the danger that came with those words. Her eyes seemed not as dazes anymore. It appeared that she slowly overcame the drugs, which meant that the pain would worsen in the next minutes.

"I never had illusions about what it brought with it to get close to Hannibal Lecter.. **..** I'm sure you neither." After a well places pause she added, "I'm not the last one he will return to. This place is full of people who earned his contempt. He's not done here…"

It seemed to be an attempt to reach out to the part of him that held saving lives and ethics higher than a life with Hannibal. Something that wanted to protect Molly and Walter. But this wasn't were it hit. His old live to him was separate from the present world he lived in. This time he wanted to have a barrier, something that kept things from getting in and out.

"I'm done here." Will insisted.

"You can lead Hannibal in the direction you want to."

"Am I supposed to flutter my eyelashes? Say another pretty please?", he scoffed sarcastic, showing his disapproval for the direction their conversation was taking. But Bedelia didn't let him disconcert her.

"You have power over Hannibal...", she pondered and she let the words sink in. "I'm not sure who will suffer from the consequences if you use it though."

The conclusion sounded dead serious and her scrutinizing gaze left no doubt in what light she saw him. And she couldn't be too wrong. At least he wasn't here to spare her.  
But he liked the fight between fear and curiosity in her eyes.

"Mine and Hannibal's relationship isn't about tricking each other anymore."

Taking a look at the clock on the wall he raised from the blue cushion and closed the button of his black jacket. He still wasn't really used to the elegant suits that were part of his wardrobe now, but it only seemed appropriate for this evening to wear his best clothes. Even though compared to Bedelia's wardrobe it almost looked colorless and boring.  
The black glittering dress easily reached the floor and covered her right leg, while revealing the remains of the other leg in a bandage. It looked more than stunning.

"It's time for dinner," Will said calmly as he walked up to Bedelia, who's face had evolved into a motionless mask, her gaze penetrating the air. Careful Will put his arms around her back and her leg to lift her up, which she let happen without any protest.

Despite her fragile figure, Bedelia weighed heavily in his arms, the head and arms dangling from her body, as he carried her down the dark corridor towards Bedelia's original living room, in which their therapy sessions had taken place. Now a dinner table stood there, waiting for its guests with three chairs.

Bringing light to the darkness, burning candles, which were placed on multiple pieces of furniture, revealed dishes with artistically prepared fruits and flowers around the main course in the middle.

Gently Will let Bedelia slide into the seat on the head of the table. Her eyes were still half closed and it took a few seconds before her body straightened and the apathetic gaze directed itself to what laid ahead of her. Decorated with exotic leafs and embedded on ashes her leg presented itself, still steaming and ready to be eaten.

Will let his hand rest on the back of her chair, lowering himself down to her ear.

"Hannibal needs my help in the kitchen. Don't run away.", He whispered scoffing.

Without another word he left through the door across from her seat, leaving her with the horrors of the welcoming smell of roasted meat.

When Will returned he found her sitting like he had left her. He sat down across from her, his eyes meeting her stare as Hannibal entered the room with a decanter filled with red wine. Where he had found wit and strength during their conversation, there now was pain and a sense of despair. Compared to that Hannibal's anticipation was conspicious.

The sound of fluid being pour into his glass made Will look up. immediately his lips curled to a warm smile as he looked at Hannibal. His former psychiatrists Hand rested on his shoulder and wandered up to his neck. But he let go after a few seconds, turning to the duties that came with having a guest.

"It's nice to have you for dinner, Bedelia. Will and I didn't want to leave without paying you one more visit.", Hannibal said, walking up to her to fill her glass.

"Well, I'm prepared for it.", She replied dryly, taking a closer look at her roasted limb.

He put the decanter down and picked up the knife, which was carefully placed on the opposite end of the table, where Bedelia couldn't reach it.

"You don't mind if I cut at this end?" Hannibal looked up, the knife resting of the thigh pointing to Will. Without waiting for a response he cut a big slice off the light brown meat and put it onto her plate.

"Roasted leg on a bed of ashes.", He presented his work. " I allowed myself to wrap it in ti leafs. They gives the meat an almost grassy taste."

Bedelia forced herself to lift the corners of her mouth.

"In ancient Polynesia this plant was often used to heal certain conditions.", Hannibal continued to explain as he cut two other slices, which he put on Will's and his plates.

"I believe it's a little to late for that.", She noted sarcastic.

Will raised his glass and took a sip. "Sometimes it is necessary to cut something out in order to start the healing process."  
In his new world blood was what fueled the fire. With cutting out what didn't belonged there anymore, the teacup would eventually set itself back together completely.

The smell of the meat fueled his appetite and a light smile appeared on his lips when he took a bite. Eating human flesh was nothing out of the usual anymore, but rather an enjoyable act.

"You're delicious.", Will suggested, putting the next piece into his mouth. The fresh meat had a strong flavor and felt mellow between his teeth.

A satisfied smile came up Hannibal's lips as he tried his masterpiece himself. There hadn't been to much opportunities for him to prepare a delicate and fancy meal such as this for years. Even in his house in the forest he didn't have the means to make such a marvelous meal out of Dr. Ramirez.

"Hannibal has indeed surpassed himself…in every aspect…" Bedelia said, emptying her glass with one gulp.

Without doubt she was a clever woman, sometimes even a step ahead of Hannibal and always daring and yet careful where she set her steps. But in the end she had been defeated by something as simple as hope.

"You both surpassed when you survived each other."

"I would call it love."

"I can imagine that many would say you aren't capable of love, Hannibal."

Hannibal looked up, almost amused.

"And you're not ignorant enough to believe this narrative."

She scrutinized the two of them, how they exchanged looks while chewing. Before she could make another remark, Hannibal intervened.

"You have attempt to open our skulls up more than once. I know it would be a satisfaction to taste our brains, but try yourself first."

When she didn't start eating, his eyes wandered over her plate. With disapproval he noticed that something was missing.  
Followed by her and Will's eyes, he got up and returned with a fork.

"Of course you can't do that without proper silverware."

Obviously he had decided to play her game. And Will wandered how long Bedelia and him would keep it up. she surely wouldn't see the dawn of the day anymore she knew that. With waxy eyes she starred straight ahead, focusing on Will, as Hannibal put the silver fork in it's proper place beside the plate.

"Now don't you want to give me the other one?" he inquired patiently.

At this point she couldn't save herself anymore and Will didn't view what she did as an attempt to do so. She followed Hannibal's demand as her hand shot out under the table. The attempt was weak and the fork drilled itself into the wood, instead of Hannibal's flesh.

"You can do better than that, Bedelia."

Hannibal calmly raised his eyes finding Will's. Slowly Will pushed his chair aside and headed to the other end of the table. In Bedelia's eyes he discovered hope that he might take action on her behalf.

"The drugs and wine might have made it this seem a good idea. Who knows, with a clear mind it would have never gotten that far.", He said deliberative, but he truly believed that Bedelia was one of the very few people that presented a danger to Hannibal. Yet this didn't even look remotely like a serious attempt to kill him. Maybe she had already accepted her fate.

Hannibal had pulled the fork out of the table. Exchanging looks with Will he handed it to him. The brief touch reminded him what was laying ahead of them.

Bedelia was shaking, but there were no tears in her eyes.

Without further hesitation Will rammed the fork into her neck. There was no point in waiting until the meat got cold. Watching Bedelia du Maurier suffer for the rest of the evening while she was playing her little game with them, seemed tasteless to him.

Her hands grabbed for her throat, desperately trying to stop the immediate blood flow. When he pulled the fork out she gasped for air. But her lungs filled with blood instead, which was running down the insight of her throat.  
Raising the blood stained weapon, Will let it sink into the flesh one more time. Blood spilled all over his hands.

There was a last rattle of death as life and elegance left her body. After all her death had been astonishingly quiet.

With a metallic sound the fork slipped out of Will's hand and hit the floor. Slowly he turned around to Hannibal, who had a proud smile on his lips. He had just proven himself to him once again.

"I would have been curious what else she would try," Hannibal said, running his fingers over his forehead and hair, while the other hand was laying on his back. Their faces were only centimeters apart and Will could feel Hannibal's breath on his cheek. Carefully he pushed forward, kissing him. The intensity of it only lasted seconds, until Hannibal pulled away gasping for air.

"Is it still as beautiful as it was when we killed Francis Dolarhyde?", He asked, letting go of Wills face and back.

"Nothing will ever reach the thrill I feel when I'm hunting with you.", Will breathed.


	3. Chapter 3

The sky above the secluded piece of land with the single house on it was bright for a winter noon. Without heavy clouds covering it the sun was shining down on the cliff, reflecting its cold light in the huge windows and on the surface of the ocean. Despite this there was a cold wind, a salty breeze from the sea.  
The blinking lights of police cars formed a contrast to the idyll. Men and women in FBI jackets had filled the scene, segregating the cliff with caution tape from the rest of the world.

Another car door shut close with a muffled sound as Jack Crawford drew closer to the crime scene. Without paying much attention to the agents around him he lifted the tape and entered the site.  
His steps were careful, grew more hesitant the more his eyes scanned the place. Since the last time he had been here, everything had been cleaned up, brought back into order again. Even though there were still signs of a struggle, for a stranger they would be not more than minor flaws to a beautiful site. But the scene looked still the same to Jack. When he looked at the terrace he still saw Francis Dolarhyde lying in his blood, pale and with dead eyes; where now was a huge window again, he still saw a yawning gap and pieces of glass lying beneath it.  
And then there was a new detail that gave Jack an uncomfortable feeling. Right in front of the house a silver vehicle had parked. Taken out of context, such an expensive looking car would fit right in with the residence, but everyone behind the caution tape knew better.

Jack spotted two agents standing beside the car, seemingly preoccupied with discussing the case. Then and now they glimpsed at the car, their eyes narrow, to protect them from the blinding light the windows were reflecting. He knew both of them, one rather casually, with the other one he had worked before.

The car doors were all wide open. And taking a closer look at it himself, Jack could identify Jimmy Price and Brian Zeller, who were leaning into the car to collect evidence from the inside.  
He had arrived late, they were probably already done with taking prints of the exterior. For a few more minutes he waited.  
After the two forensic scientists had finished their work and presented the results to the investigators, Jack approached them.

As they spotted him, both seemed surprised. Before he could say anything Price confronted him. "Agent Crawford? Did they call you in as well?" He seemed almost happy. "If we'd known you were a consultant in this case, we would have-"

"I'm not leading this investigation," he corrected him evasively. Actually, he was probably not needed here at all, but they didn't need to know that. "But tell me what you have so far. Are we sure this is Bedelia Du Maurier's car?"

"There is no doubt. the license plate is registered under her name and we found her finger- and footprints inside."

He nodded, not sure if he would have been relieved if this wasn't her vehicle. Since she had vanished two days ago, he had waited for something that would shed light on her disappearance. But this didn't put his mind to ease.

"Do we have a lead?" He asked calmly.

Brian Zeller shook his head, almost frustrated. "No body, no parts of a body. And there isn't anything else that would give us more information about her disappearance."

"What does the evidence tell us so far. How did her car get here?"

"The evidence indicates that she drove here and then got out her car to walk towards the house." Zeller drew a line from the car to the house with his finger. "We found a few blurry footprints that match her shoe size."

Price nodded. "She didn't attempt to get inside the residence though and we lose her prints in this area." He pointed to the back of the house where the edge of the cliff set an end to the site.

As Jack's eyes followed his finger, a chill ran down his spine.

"You're saying she died here, at the notorious cliff where Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham fell. That's certainly no coincidence"

"Right, that amazed us as well." Jimmy Price agreed.

"No indication of the presence of a second or even third person?" Jack dug deeper.

"There were no other fingerprints or DNA than hers." Zeller confirmed. "That's why suicide is one of the theories we take into consideration."

"Some agents will later search the water for her. We will probably be able to tell you more if we have examined the body."

Jack watched the two agents, who he assumed were leading the investigation, leaving the scene and getting into one of the cars.  
The caution tape they had just passed seemed almost unnecessary since the area was too secluded for a crowd to form. And so far there were no journalists in sight either.

"Is it possible to survive such a fall?"

It was the question he had tried to ban from his mind. But now considering all scenarios, facing it was unavoidable.  
Bedelia's disappearance had already sowed the seeds for his wariness and now the certitude and the fear that it was bringing with it flourished. The thought that Hannibal Lecter might have survived tasted bitter in his mouth and he didn't want to say it aloud.

"There are always cases in which people get away with heavy or light injuries...But it's unlikely."

* * *

Only a few hours into the next morning the phone in his office started to ring. The obtrusive sound was a welcomed distraction.  
He had thought about not coming to work today, since he couldn't really focus on the paperwork anyway. After a night in which he had caught little sleep, Jack was exhausted. Not because of the lack of sleep – he was used to that – but his nightmares had hit him hard. Usually they didn't wake him up. However, this time it had been fueled by the discovery of the day before, mixing with his thoughts and emotions. And it wasn't Hannibal Lecter who terrorized him this night, that would have been bearable at this point. What made him wake up, panting in shock was the bloodstained face of Will Graham that smiled upon his mutilated body.  
He couldn't get rid of this image and he didn't want to be alone with it. Eventually he had decided that he had to come today, because he needed to see how the case of Bedelia Du Maurier would develop further.

"Crawford here," he barked into the phone.

"Hello, Jack." The woman at the other end of the line said.  
It took a moment in which jack starred puzzled out of his office until he could identify the voice as Alana Bloom. Since almost a month he hadn't spoken to her anymore. "I just read about Bedelia Du Maurier's car. It has been discovered at the cliff?"

He wondered how she could know, until it occurred to him that it had to be in the newspapers by now. Or at least Freddie Lounds had deemed it worth publishing.

Jack hesitated."I think this is something we shouldn't discuss on the phone."

"I wouldn't call if I wasn't so concerned." Her voice sounded almost cold. "I'm currently out of town."

She didn't expand of the reason why, but taking the rushed call into consideration he could put one and one together himself.

"I can only tell you what I know..." He took a deep breath. "There was only her DNA on the scene. It doesn't look like an abduction. And the investigation so far makes it likely she committed suicide."

The words came out more calm and composed than he had expected. The nervousness had settled and now a layer of coldness seemed to surround him like a heavy curtain.

Silence followed

"It would make sense, wouldn't it? She had a close relationship with Hannibal and had multiple appointments with Will. Influenced by Hannibal, driven by guilt…..", she scoffed contemptuously.

He had the same doubts about Bedelia's death, but Alana was right, the narrative would fit. Were the circumstances different, were the corpses of Will and Hannibal safely imprisoned under a tombstone, he would have even believed it.

"I can't imagine your concern about Dr. Du Maurier is the only reason you called this number. What do you think about these news, Alana?"

"That Hannibal didn't leave any evidence."

"Then I'm glad we're on the same page with this."

"I would have been surprised if we weren't. We both must be hyper-sensible in regards to everything Will and Hannibal came ever in touch with. Our mistakes make us feel a sense of responsibility." She pondered.

They had discussed guilt and responsibility before, and Jack hoped it wasn't the subject Alana was aiming for in this conversation. The last time the verdict had been ruthless.

"But does this translate to the senses of the FBI? Will they pursuit a homicide investigation?" She inquired.

"They will keep searching for Bedelia's body for sure, but we both know how slim the chances are that they will find anything."

"Right. If Hannibal doesn't want them to find anything, they won't find anything. But the connection to Will and Hannibal should be enough for them to take this more serious. They can't just disregard it."

"Some of them don't. They know exactly what her death means... I see the tension on their faces every time I pass them." He sighed. They were often looking at him briefly, searching for confirmation in his eyes. "But those in charge are very aware what happens if you dance with the devil. They saw what happened when I tried to catch Hannibal. Just keeping the file closed seems more promising for their life and career."  
Before Alana could intervene, he added, "There is nothing I could do to lead the process into the right direction. My words mean nothing here."

Alana almost laughed. "Well, if it was that easy to escape this, I would have taken this way out! But they all will have to deal with far worse. Maybe in a few days, months or years. However Hannibal pleases." Contempt about the fact that these agents were hiding form Hannibal and the public, while getting away with it, laid in her voice.

After everything that had happened, neither him nor Alana had the luxury of ignoring or misinterpreting this. He wondered what it would be like to be in the skin of these agents, who could still walk away from it so easily.  
They had been able to observe everything from a safe distance, while he had fought his battle. And yet no one wanted to be placed in the middle of the arena now. Instead they were ignoring the hungry lion.

Once coming into touch with the life of Hannibal Lecter, their was no easy way out. Every scenario held its perils. Nobody left the field unwounded.

"What do you think Hannibal is up to?" He asked her.

"Bedelia's Du Mauriers disappearance is a mocking warning. He wants to see us suffer before he kills us. It's a hunt he inviting us to!" With a suddenly weak voice she continued,"Hannibal promised me a reward for my braveness, a reward that involves my family. And you know that he doesn't break his promises."

"He's curious what we will do to survive this time." Jack concluded.

Alana cleared her throat. "There is no point in running, but I won't present myself for him on a plate. I have no illusions about the fact that I will have to find him before he finds me, in order to survive. I want to see how he struggles to survive the hunt," she explained. "What will you do to survive, Jack?"

For a second he wasn't sure if he should share what he had contemplated. Then he answered, "I'm not sure if this has much to do with survival and rather with poetic justice."

It was the first time he said aloud what had crossed his mind for weeks now.

If Alana was foreseeing his plans she didn't show it. Disconcerted she noted, "You should leave Virginia as well, Jack. Go somewhere nobody would recognize your face. You won't be of any use when you're dead."

"I will indeed leave. There is no justification for me to stay and watch. I'm not of any use to FBI and they just proofed that they aren't either."

Here, in his office, doing paperwork, then and now catching a glimpse of crimes he once had investigated, he felt caged. Even worse, he felt useless. All these years he had caught all kinds of murderers, had visited crime scenes and autopsies. Day by day he had faced mutilated bodies, thought patterns no sane person would ever fully understand, but all of this had been worth it for one reason: the probability and in many cases the certitude that he was saving lives.  
But he hadn't been able to save Will Graham's life. It was forever lost to the sea, and if not that, to Hannibal. The case would never let him go and he owed it his dedication, his last efforts.

"I am almost surprised you didn't make this decision earlier. You're freeing yourself from unnecessary rules. This isn't a surrender."

"No." He shook his head even though she couldn't see it. Maybe it was to assure himself of his words. "This is the right point in time to resolve this on my own. I will have to kill Hannibal Lecter."

"Hannibal would love your revenge driven enthusiasm….especially because you would fall victim to it." It wasn't scoffing. Jack could hear a hint of sympathy in her voice, something that was now often lacking when she spoke to him.

As he didn't respond Alana took the word again.

"Two minds that know Hannibal's well enough might have a slight change in catching him, I think...I propose that we work together, Jack."

He pondered.

They would surely disagree at some point. Alana's visions for this situation and its solution had to be fundamentally different from his. But after all she and her wife had the means that were more than just helpful when it came to detecting someone that could hide anywhere on earth. Possibly, Alana would be useful to him, even though he first had to proof to be useful to her.  
And at the right point in time, he could still change the game to his advantage.

"I'll take your offer, Alana. Just leave me the pleasure of killing him."

There was silence on the other end of the line as an agreement.  
"You'll have to consider that Will Graham might be out there with him," she then warned him, well aware what sensible topic that was.

"I'm ready to defeat what he has become."


	4. Chapter 4

**First of all thank you so much for your reviews, favs and follows! I know I'm updating rather late, but I had to rewrite this chapter multiple times.**

 **I hope you enjoy.**

* * *

They left Baltimore behind a day after they had killed Bedelia and staged her suicide.  
Will hadn't asked where exactly Hannibal wanted to take him and he wasn't disappointed when their destination turned out to be Rome.  
their new home was an apartment in the center of the town. It wasn't as ridiculously big as the one in Florence, but it's flamboyant furnishing was still enough to make Will role his eyes.  
It was impressive how quickly Hannibal had organized the flight and the apartment, but Will figured the man must have planned this since they had withdrawn to the cottage in the forest.  
He viewed it as a sign that their stay in Italy wouldn't be of a short duration. And yet he didn't dare to ask him how long it would serve as their home and if they would ever return to Maryland.  
What added to his uncertainty and confusion was his relationship with Hannibal. There was an undeniable tension in the air, but their interaction resembled the cautiousness with which porcelain was handled.  
After the kiss every time he looked the man in the eyes, his heart beat a little faster in excitement. The kiss….the kill, both experiences had blurred.  
With everyday going by he caught himself more often imagining Hannibal's face close to his own, warm breath caressing his cheeks. And equally his thoughts about killing seized his mind.

Sometimes the walls of their home caged and overwhelmed him and he sought ease in nature, miles away from the sound of human voices.  
While at some days he felt like driving out of the town to be on his own, the city itself offered life and elegance with it's beautiful sights and buildings. Both of them were aware there was no possibility of fully living the lifestyle it offered, since the danger of being recognized by citizens or tourists was still very present more than ten weeks after their official death date. Instead they got used to being domestic, secluding themselves in the midst of Rome, where Chyioh was always keeping an eye on them.  
However, Hannibal didn't let cautiousness take away his occasional trips to various sights and he often urged Will to come with him. The lack of preoccupation and the notion of being around Hannibal, made Will eventually agree most of the time.

He loved the softness in Hannibal's voice when he started to explain the historical backrounds of a sight or an artwork to him. Then and now the other mans glance wandered to Will, assuring himself he was listening.

"One of Michelangelo's most impressive creations. The Pieta was a common motive in Renaissance, here portrayed as Mary grieving over Jesus' dead body after he was betrayed and killed because he was gods representative." Hannibal said as they stopped in front of Michelangelo's sculpture.  
They were slowly wandering through the St Peter's Basilica whichs coolness offered some contrast to the burning heat outside. Listening to their own footsteps and the murmur of tourists in the background, Will couldn't help but compare their stay to being on vacation or even a honeymoon. Innocent trips to museums and historical sights, long walks and dinner...  
They hadn't come around to kill anyone after Bedelia, which was contrary to what Will had expected from a life with a serial killer. This lifestyle was necessary if they didn't want to risk an early end to it, but Will couldn't deny that his thoughts more and more circulated around blood.

Interested he viewed the dreadful scene, Jesus' tortured body laying liveless on Mary's lap.

"He captured the scene beautifully."

The bible didn't mean much to him, but he noticed what Hannibal saw in this sculpture.

"he was very aware of his talent. _Michael Angelus. Bonarotus. Florent. Faciebat_." he read the letters on the banner around Mary's chest, the Italian without accent. "The Pieta is the only sculpture of his he equipped with his name. The banner also carries the name of his hometown on it. It's where he learned to create pieces like this." Hannibal explained. "In the end it was the political situation that forced him to leave Florence."

"What was the inducement?" Will asked.

"The Medici Family desired to have Florence under their control again, and Michelangelo proud of his heritage as he was, was offering his help to defend it against them. But he also had ties to the Medicis... After the town was conquered a penalty would have awaited him if he had stayed. After all he had shown loyalty to both sides, eventually one might have wanted to kill him."

The St. Peter Basilica didn't remain the only place they discovered for themselves.

Their apartment was not far from the Ponte Mivilo, a bridge that gave a unique view over the Tiber river and the landscape with its many buildings. In the weeks they had stayed in Rome it had become one of their favorite places to visit.

Will stared at the green water following small waves with his eyes. The air was warm and his elbows were resting of the parapet of the bridge,  
It was rather quiet, though not unvisited. There always was a steady stream of a few people, none of who payed attention to someone who looked down on the water.  
Will let go of the sparkling sun light on the surface of the water and turned around to Hannibal, who was preoccupied with his sketch book.

"don't move, Will.", he said softly

"What?", he asked confused and then understood. "oh, you're drawing me? I thought the scenery was the focus of your sketch..."

When he caught a glimpse of the picture, he could only see a sketch himself with a small piece of the bridge in the backround.

"I intended it to be the focus, but I decided to draw something much more evanescent, something that needs to be captured", Hannibal explained.

Will watched him, a sense of sadness on his face. For him his life with Hannibal had just started, thinking about an end made him swallow.  
A while he continued to stare motionless at the river, listening to the strokes of Hannibal's pen.

"How long will we linger in Rome, Hannibal?" He asked.

"I intend to show you much more of the world.", Hannibal answered softly.

"It will always be tied to being evanescent...endangered. I will have to fear that you are not done in Baltimore"

The noise of pen rubbing on paper stopped.

"It will. Mortality and risks what makes our time and those who we perceive as people worthy of our attention so valuable. Knowing you on my side would make a difference."

Will looked away, not allowing Hannibal to see his face. "We're trying to hold onto what we love by trying to defeat death as long as possible."

slowly Hannibal put his sketch book down and leaned against the parapet, leaving only centimeters between him and Will. He let his eyes wander over the passengers walking by on the other side, then he turned to the river.

"Life is a game without an outlook on winning."Hannibal paused. "It is fascinating to see which measures we deem appropriate to take, to prevent it from ending."

Feeling Hannibal's eyes on his neck Will turned his head. "you want to see what Alana and Margot will do to save their own skin, now that they suspect you will come."

The other mans lips curled to a subtle smile, a confirmation.  
"I'm curious what some of our acquaintances are capable of, Will. When we or our loved ones are threatened by death, we let our true nature shine through." He scrutinized him intensively. "It told me a lot about you and your future actions when you decided to save my life at that shore."

Frowing Will starred back. It suddenly upset him that Hannibal viewed it all as a game, that there was a teasing undertone in his voice.

"I didn't save you for you to throw away our life!",he replied furiously. "You could have already killed them and we would be on the run, far away from Baltimore...physically and mentally. Or you could just forget your feuds with them."

"I don't break my promises."

Will inhaled the air, trying to calm down. "You decided to borrow them a few more weeks? months? years?"

"It is not entirely up to me."

So their trip to Rome was just buying time, no victory in the long run. Will had known it along, but the delay that going to Europe had presented, had made him hope for another direction.

"You're going to hunt them and you're inviting me to it."

"fishing." he corrected Will. "With Bedelia du Maurier's disappearance our lure was well placed."

"We could just leave the lure drifting in the water, it might distract them. Their are plenty of other Rivers to fish in."

Will was not sure what he should think about returning. It wasn't something he desired necessarily, and the risk that it brought with it, also added to his distrust. The notion of returning to Baltimore made him uncomfortable, unsound.

"was I mistaken to interpret your participation as giving in to a temptation?"

Despite his objections he couldn't bring himself to turn Hannibal's offer down. He preferred to let it hover in the air, not wanting it to taint their relationship.

* * *

After another month they left Rome. Will didn't ask if they would return, but he was almost sure they wouldn't. And his excitement was stronger than his nervousness, yet he was relieved when Hannibal revealed the goal to be Palermo.

Instead of another apartment, their stay turned out to be a Hotel, which Will had to admit he hadn't expected. Of course now that he thought of it, having an apartment in every European city was unrealistic, but then again Hannibal was out of the ordinary.  
The sun was already sinking behind the panorama when they arrived and after the hour long drive both were to tired for going out for dinner.

Hannibal had booked one room for the two of them, and Will blushed as he informed him, trying to cover it up by shrugging casually.  
After the kiss they hadn't come much closer physically, though the tension between them sometimes almost seemed unbearable to Will. But he wasn't sure how he was supposed to approach this.  
A few times since the kiss he had fallen asleep on the couch, his head resting on Hannibal's chest, but usually he had preferred his own bed and it didn't go beyond that. This way there wasn't any space left for awkwardness or admitting how much he really ached for Hannibal.  
It crossed his mind that this time he wouldn't be able to bypass.

Exhausted as he was, Will fell asleep after he had showered, leaving the bathroom to Hannibal. Laying without a blanket, nothing but wide pyjama pants covered his skin when Hannibal entered the room.  
The feeling of soft sheets be spread over him, providing warmth, let him come to counsciousness again. Still sleepy his hands fumbled for the ends of the blanket to pull them more firmly around him. But then he felt a hand remaining on his shoulder and he could feel his blood pumping faster immediately. Unable to do anything else he opened his eyes and looked up to the man. There was it again, the hunger he felt, looking in the eyes of the killer. Their gleaming was almost hypnotizing in the dark.  
Flustered Hannibal returned the glance, no sign of embarrassment on his face.  
Before he knew what he was doing, Will had sat up in the sheets, pulling Hannibal down to him by his neck and kissing him. It was warm and started soft, but got more and more demanding. Without hesitation the other man returned the kiss while Will was pulling him onto the bed.

Hannibal was on top of him now, starting to caress Will's face when he pulled away gasping for air. He didn't leave him a break for too long, just as Will had filled his lungs with oxygen, his mouth was once again sealed by Hannibal's lips.

All Will could think of was that he didn't want to stop, that passion was stronger than every rational thought, or the nervousness he had experienced seconds ago.

He wanted to feel Hannibal's skin on his, sense the warmth of his body on his torso. His hands wandered under Hannibal's shirt, which the man immediately got rid of by pulling it over his head. Pleased Will ran his fingers over the naked back as the man bend down to him again, a content smile on his face.  
Pressing his body against Will's more tightly he began kissing his neck, running his fingers through his hair. Panting Will locked his arms around the slim torso.

Hannibal's lips caressed his torso and stomach while he roughly removed Will pants, just to immediately devote to kissing him again. Savoring every touch, the skin of their bodies rubbing together, they sank into the cushion of the bed, sighs and moans escaping their mouth as their bodies found a mutual rhythm.

* * *

It was Afternoon when Will, followed by Hannibal entered Norman Chapel. Inside the light was warm and comforting, resonating beautifully with the painted walls and their rich colors.

Last time he had been here Hannibal had left him a corpse, putting his heartbreak on display. After that the place had become a room in his memory palace, a room he shared with Hannibal. And the halls still showed the same effect they always had on him, he felt close to him.

"You spend all these years you were incarcerated marveling at the art of medieval Italian art?" He asked Hannibal as they walked down the rows of praying people, letting their eyes wander up to the ceiling, past the biblical figures on golden background.

Hannibal looked reverent up to the picture of Jesus. "And many many more places of endless beauty and grace.", he confirmed. "But Norman Chapel was the one I could find you in..."

Slowly walking through the chapel each of them had payed attention to the architecture the paintings. A few tourists made there way through the chapel, some of them American. Will still was relieved each time they passed by without looking at him or Hannibal a second time.  
A few people sat down on the chairs, where some delved into silent prayers. It all created a peaceful and almost sacred atmosphere.  
Followed by Hannibal he stepped to the front of the chapel. Taking a match he ignited a candle and put in to the other burning lights.

"Church is supposed to be a place where connections and relationships are strengthened."

Will closed his eyes. He was well aware what Hannibal was aiming for. After all of the confusion, all of the pain and ascertain, their relationship had become more and more solid in the last months.

"In this case Norman Chapel would provide the appropriate scenery for us, wouldn't it?"

Hannibal looked over his shoulder watching a praying women, keeping his voice down. Will followed his eyes.

Fishing for a match Hannibal said. "We pray to god in hope he will hear us. Thoughts and ideas and are hoped to be turned into something literal."

"We're admitting thoughts and desires. But we have to give in to them to make them more then just a product of our imagination."

"Last night, were you giving in in to a desire, Will?" Hannibal teased him.

Immediately the blood shot in his head and he blushed. Hannibal watched him amused and after a pause Will said in a more serious manner, "Hannibal," he hesitated. "Is this what you always pursued."

"This kind of relationship?"

"Yes."

Igniting the candle he said, "It has evolved over quite some time. View it as a piece of art, take the viewpoint of Michelangelo. If an artist plans a sculpture he usually builds a _bonzzetto_ first, a smaller model often made out of clay. But he can never entirely predict the outcome. You could say we created a _bonzzetto_ , a draft that allowed us to perceive it from all angles and all lights." He paused, almost as if he was searching for the right words. "I didn't plan to fall in love with you."

"So you rely on my loyalty and my love."

"Just like you rely on mine."  
Will couldn't deny it. He fed off every little smile and admiring glance Hannibal offered him. "You want to feel the thrill of hunting together again."

"I'm curious what kind of artwork we are creating. I want to find out were this will take us..."

In Hannibal's face he found the satisfied reaction he always showed when Will was admitting something that the man had discovered about him long before Will himself had. "You decided to stay on my side, despite all perils that you discovered contemplating life with me?"

After all he had to accept that this was the only life he desired. But who would understand why, after all what the different angles had exposed, he was here now. Quite frankly, considered from some angles the bonzetto of their friendship and relationship had been like a hurricane. For a moment Will wondered how the consequences of a finished sculpture would look like then, but it occurred to him that now, he and Hannibal had to be in the eye of the storm.

"last time I could only turn your offer down, by trying to kill us.", he reminded him jokingly.  
Without doubt he would follow Hannibal everywhere, but it still was _despite_ the perils it held. He just figured that it was smarter to approach them differently now.

"It would be an opportunity to earn up to the title 'murder husbands'."

Will chuckled at the Hannibal's use of the term.

It pleased him that Freddy Lounds couldn't steel the words that were just meant for him. And in him gleamed hope that she would never be able to write a headline with this title again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you again for your reviews and everything! It is really encouraging to know that some people are interested in my writing and I really appreciate your feedback.**

 **warning: There will be graphic violence in this chapter.**

 **If this story gets terminated, it will also be uploaded on archive of our own.**

* * *

The next day Will woke up from the sound of the creaking of closet hinges. Sleepy he turned around, digging deeper into the sheets to get a few more minutes of sleep. His hand reached out and grabbed the bedsheets just to notice that the warmth of Hannibal was missing.

For a moment he believed it had all been just a dream and when he would open his eyes he would be in a hospital bed, his wrist in handcuffs. His eyes snapped open.

A relieved sigh fell from his lips as he recognized the beige walls of their hotel room. Then he caught sight of Hannibal.

Face turned away from Will he was reaching into the open closet, his movements quick but elegant. Skeptically Will watched him.

"How long have I slept?", he asked yawing as he set up in the bed. The night had been long but he felt like he had slept a entire day.

"It is 2 pm." Hannibal answered without turning around. "I thought I'd let you sleep."

Wondering how he could have slept that long and still feel so exhausted, Will rubbed his eyes. Hannibal was already fully dressed and freshly shaven. He was probably awake for hours.

When he finally turned around Will could see that he was taking clothes out of the closet, making sure they were neatly folded.

"What are you doing?" He finally asked, as Hannibal carefully placed the bundle in one of the open suitcases on the floor in front of him. Lifting his feet out of the bed Will stood up and froze in his position. "Are we leaving Palermo already?"

Something about Hannibal's face was different. It seemed serious, almost strained.

"Would you like to help me packing?", he said instead of answering his question, continuing to fish for two suits in the highest compartment.

Confused Will came closer, taking a look in the closet which was almost completely emptied. When they had arrived, Hannibal had insisted on placing his suits neatly inside of it. But now even the rest of the room looked close to its original condition.

He had counted on a stay of at least a week, a departure came without warning. Hannibal at least could have told him.

Then it dawned upon him.

"They found us." He swallowed. Palermo never had been a place remote from knowing eyes. "Will we have to return to Rome?"

Taking a deep breath Hannibal stood up. "I'm afraid the situation denies us ever returning, Will."

"What exactly is the situation?" Will asked, his voice sounding weak. The strained look on Hannibal's face seemed to make the air he breathed thinner.

"An hour ago I received an agitated call from my landlord. He informed me that one of my apartments in Rome has been broken into."

Will's mouth felt dry all the sudden. The picture of some stranger – or even worse someone he knew – searching through what was supposed to be their home, forced itself upon him.

"How...how do you believe they could find it?"

"It wasn't our apartment, but someone must have figured where Chiyoh's settled in Rome."

Hannibal had rented an apartment for her not far away from theirs in the center of the city. It was a little smaller, but still looked marvelous. "Unfortunatly she is not to be found since this discovery."

Will's skin felt firm on his bones and despite the warm sun shining on it, Will felt chilly. Slowly he walked through the room towards the light spending window. The curtains were closed almost completly and only a gap in the heavy fabric alluded that it was a bright afternoon. Carefully Will pulled the curtains apart.

"This isn't a method I would expect the FBI to use. I guess I have to congratulate you, you lured someone here who holds a personal resentment against you."

"I was under the same impression." Hannibal's voice echoed from the other side of the room. "Jack Crawford could have made use of his knowledge. He had an encounter with Chiyoh when we were reunited in Florence."

"It could as well be Alana or Freddy Lounds. There is no information she doesn't gain access to somehow." Will sighed. "We took one of them and they take one of ours. This is starting to feel like a chess game."

"It is still in its first phase, but it is always interesting to see what strategy an opponent is pursuing."

"How would this move serve them?" Will inquired.

If Hannibal kept secrets about his plans not only from him but also from Chiyoh, it would help them in this case.

"The furthest it would lead them is Palermo." He was getting closer and closer to him until Will could feel warm puffs caressing his neck. "What really marks an experienced chess player is the ability to choose a strategy that is beneficial in the long run."

The man's hand on his shoulder felt incredibly warm.

"You are cold, Will. I think you would benefit from a hot shower."

Meeting his concerned eyes, Will shook his head.

"No, no, I'm fine." He muttered. "What we both would benefit from is working on a strategy."

Concerned Hannibal scrutinized him as Will crossed his arms in front of his chest, his skin feeling uncomfortably tight. The man took the blanket from one of the chairs and wrapped it around Will's shoulders.

"In regards to our new stay I already organized a good amount." He said gently. "Italy was never supposed to be our final destination."

Will starred out of the window that offered a view over the houses and streets of the town. No movement escaped his wary eyes. "If Chiyoh reveals what she knows they would have a credible witness, Hannibal. She knows that we're in Italy and she knows you. That alone would give the FBI a reason to put us on the most wanted list again."

He hadn't felt as evanescent as now ever before.

"A change of position will be difficult to avoid in the long run. Sooner or later our life would come to light."

Will turned around and looked at him.

"If we just leave now without taking appropriate precautions they can easily follow us wherever we go. It would be an escape for now, but a disadvantage in the end."

Hannibal agreed. "I don't have any doubts they are watching us already; Be it their pawns or they themselves." He paused and moved a curl from Will's forehead. "I see an opportunity for you to find some closure in the necessary precautions. Wouldn't killing them please you, Will?"

Without question Hannibal was a good observer.

"Killing them would be as good as a confirmation that we both are alive." He pondered. "We're in a Zugzwang situation. Neither can we remain where we are, nor are we able to make a move that would be to our advantage."

"Sacrifices must be made."

* * *

It was cold when Will stepped onto the street. There was barley anyone around, not even churchgoers on their way to Norman Chapel who hoped to find sacredness in its light. The darkening sky changed everything about Palermo. It was the time the moths gathered around the light, being attracted by something that breaks through the darkness and silence. And then there were the ones who welcomed the absence of light and the protection it guaranteed them.

Will walked down the street, not rushing, but knowing his way. He headed north where the streets became more narrow and streetlights rarer.

Though he couldn't see anyone around he knew multiple eyes were watching him. It had to be four, two at least. Hannibal had pointed the two men out to him when they were plotting and assessing the situation. After the news of Chiyoh's disappearance both were aware that every step of them was watched.

After crossing the street, small alleys welcomed Will and he made his way into the urban labyrinth, speeding up his pace. The walls blocked the sinking sun from proving any light and Will could barley see in the darkest corners, sometimes throughout the whole street.

His feet carried ahead until he caught a glimpse of endless darkness from the corner of his eye. Determined he entered the long, dark alley with narrow walls that seemed to come closer and closer the further he proceeded. To Will's delight the light that announced the end of the street was far away, yet he was able to see enough of his surroundings. His heart beat faster in excitement and after a while he was sure that someone was following him.

They had swallowed the bait. He and Hannibal had made sure that the two men observing them, could watch how they left the hotel with their luggage, a vehicle waiting for them. Instead of driving away, he had given Hannibal a long kiss, saying goodbye. If their secret should be revealed to the public, he at least had just chosen the photo the headlines would be accompanied by.

While Hannibal had started the motor, he had walked away in the opposite direction.

And now one of them was here.

Holding back his breath Will stood still, pressing his back against the cold wall. There was a certain hyper sensibility that struck him since he knew his prey was around. On his skin he could feel every change of wind or temperature and every noise sounded distinct.

A shiver went down his spine as he could feel a body moving toward his hiding place. Shooting forward, he lunged at the men. He heard a surprised gasp as he collided with a tall and square shouldered body.

In seconds Will's hands found the neck and held onto it. It felt too good to let go.

His victim realized what was happening and now used his weight against him. Immediately Will found himself pushed back to the hard wall. He panted. Maybe he should have been more considerate, less quick to act on his impulse. It had been a while since his last fist fight.

His hand fumbled for the knife in his pocked while the man was attacking him with his fists. One fist struck his chest, another missed his jaw.

Strong muscles were the advantage of the other men. Obviously who hunted him and Hannibal had picked people who weren't easy to defeat. And he hadn't expected any less.

Will had found the blade and pulled it out of the pocket. With a fast move he rammed it into the stomach of the other man and a warm substance purred onto his hands. The next thing he knew was that his prey growled in an attempt to suppress his screams.

Quickly slipping through the space between the tall body and the wall, he escaped another attack.

As he used the knife again, attacking from behind, the blood splattered on his face. Again and again he drove the blade into the body of his opponent, making his defense weaker with each stab. His mind was in a state of pure ecstasy and he could barley feel the strong punches that struck his face.

Shaking hands settled around his neck, pressing harder and harder until Will had to let go of the knife to get the hands off him. The pain he had blended out during the fight now reached a level where is body wouldn't tolerate it anymore. He tried to push the attacker back, to rip his cold fingers off his throat.

No air was reaching his lungs anymore. Everything blurred, but before he could derail into unconsciousness, his back hit the floor.

It wasn't until a few seconds that Will realized that the pressure on his throat was gone and he could breath again. As he sucked in the air he heard footsteps coming closer. Coughing he got up on all fours, trying to prepare himself to fight back. Only slowly he recognized the silhouette of Hannibal standing above him, offering him his hand. Quickly he got on his feet again.

Beneath the two of them the man was still moving, gasping and grunting.

Wills eyes wandered over the pale face. "End him." He uttered between his breaths.

Hannibal looked at him calmly. His shirt was ripped and Will could feel that it was soaked in something warm and wet. "Together." He decided.

With ease Hannibal lifted the victim up, grabbing him by the neck to push him against the wall. For a few seconds the crescent came out over the houses and its light exposed countless stabbing wounds that looked like results of the attack of a furious, sharp teethed animal. The man barely looked human anymore.

Will's final cut went through the throat, causing blood to spill everywhere. What remained was a rattle of death as the man slowly choked on his own blood and a splash when Hannibal opened up his stomach and the guts landed on the pavement.

Will watched his face derail as life left his body. It sank lifeless on the floor, leaving Will leaning against the cold stone. Blood stuck all over the wall and his skin. He wondered what it would look like when he would step out of the dark alley into the moonlight. Panting but smiling he turned to Hannibal, who was busy cleaning his knife.

"Where is the other one?"

"He was not quite a fighter like this one. But his body will adorn the outside of Norman Chapel quite well." He said.

Wills heartbeat only slowly picked up a normal pace again and he couldn't tell what was blood and what sweat. He had almost hoped that their other victim was still alive, that the hunt wasn't over yet. And he realized that it indeed was all he wanted, not only for himself, but for both of them.


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you for your kind reviews, I hope I won't disappoint you in the future.**

 **I'm sorry for the delay, but I had a little crisis figuring stuff out about this story.** **I might have to edit a lot when I'm done with all chapters.**

* * *

Taking in each photo of the various crime scenes Alana studied the file. She closed her eyes and tried to connect her impressions of Hannibal Lecter with an image, a place he could be at.  
It could become quite vivid but she still struggled to fully understand Hannibal like Will seemed to understand him. It was about the tenth time she had went through the documents this afternoon and the always repeating patterns of associations and ideas gave her a headache.

On the last page she had slid in an article about the subject, which she still could only read with a hint of annoyance and disgust. _Sympathy for the killer? How Hannibal the Cannibal turned an FBI agent into his accomplice_ , read the title of Freddy Lounds' work. The content was sensationalized and simplified but in all fairness not too far from her own words. A few month ago Alana had decided to publish an article on the relationship of Will and Hannibal and Will's role in the crimes in the journal of psychiatry. Every word about Will Graham had been stained with hope that he was more than what Hannibal had turned him into, that he was in possession of a mind of his own. Of course a mind that was oriented to keep away from the ones he had once counted among his friends.

Alana wasn't eager to ignore reality, make Will Graham solely a victim with stockholm syndrome, not able to refuse his antagonist. The photo's of him and Hannibal in Palermo had been all too present in the media and police reports. Their relationship was a wildly discussed topic, on which even Alana took a side that portrayed it as something along the lines of mutual interest or even mutual attraction.

However she refused to resent the former special agent, to look upon him with hatred as long as there was a chance that he was the key to his companions capture. In the end what was between Hannibal and him might be the solution. After all he was still the man's biggest weakness, possibly his only blind spot.

In the last weeks the work had really absorbed her, made her forget to eat and drink sometimes. Margot had often accused her of being irritated and repellent and as it knocked on the door she ordered the security guard to come in without even looking up from the file, hoping she could find a reason to send him away immediately. But usually the staff obeyed to her orders to only disrupt her if the matter was of importance.

Entering the room the man cleared his throat and said, "There is someone at the gate who requested to talk to you, Dr. Bloom."

Alana frowned, putting down the file. Visits were not common at the _ice palace_. There was a reason she called her modern building this. The residence was so secluded from the rest of the world that usually nobody came near it. During the winter season the long corridors seemed cold and lonely and the wide landscape in the windows couldn't offer any comfort.

"Who is it?" She inquired, both wariness and curiosity waking her interest.

The tall guard stepped forward towards her desk and gave Alana an Ipad. On the screen she could follow the broadcasting of the cctv of the gate. Beside three security guards in dark coats another man had entered the frame. Despite his disfigured face, Alana immediately recognized the man in his short coat.

"He identified himself as Dr. Frederick Chilton."

Frederick looked up to the camera, the eyes inquiring, as if he knew she was watching.

After starring at him for a few seconds, she determined, "You can allow him to pass. I'll meet him at the entrance."

She didn't want Frederick inside of her house, but it seemed indecent to her to let him stand outside with these icy temperatures. The entrance hall was a good compromise.  
Nodding the security guard gave orders over his phone, contacting the guards outside as Alana stood up and left the room to go downstairs.

Only a few seconds after she had reached the large hall on the first floor, Frederick stepped inside, escorted by one of the guards. With a nod she allowed him to leave.

Frederick was looking around the hall, a cocky expression on his face. Finally his eyes, one of them blindly starring, rested on Alana.

"Strict safety precautions you have here, Alana." He greeted her. "You're residence isn't easy to find so far away from civilization."

"It is more than necessary in times like these."

"Then I ask myself why you didn't chose a home somewhere more remote than Virginia. You and Margot could certainly afford something as fancy as a private island." Something contemptuous laid in his voice. But she hadn't expected that Frederick would lay down his bitterness and resentment against her after so little time had passed.

"Practical reasons." She replied evasively.

He nodded. The disfigurement didn't take away any of his cockiness, it seemed, though there was a certain self awareness about his appearance that mirrored in his movement and speech.

"Right, organizing to catch Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham is more easily done with a good overview over their preferred hunting grounds." He snorted. "Quite risky being so close."

"When Hannibal Lecter desires to kill you any place on earth bears a risk." She countered not unfriendly. It wasn't surprising to her that Frederick was aware she hadn't handed the case over to the FBI entirely, but she worried what else he had knowledge about then.

"You took a risk in Italy and it wasn't rewarded. And now the clock is ticking, Alana. Tick tock, tick tock. You're not smarter than one year ago, am I right?"

"I can hear your clock ticking as well, Frederick." Her eyes were piercing him. "Don't deny your fear. I could sense it when I read your new book. It it probably the most respectful you have ever treated Hannibal Lecter in your writings. Not to say cautious."

Two month ago the book with the title _burned alive_ had been published and had reached the bestseller list within less than two weeks.

"The focus of my writing was supposed to be on Francis Dolarhyde. And we all know what consequences it brings with it if you drag a serial killer through the mud...or at least when I dare to."

The red dragon hadn't been the only one accused of being responsible for his injuries, but she decided to avoid it as a subject in this conversation.

"It can only do good for your recovery. Your mind has to be patched together again, just like your physical wounds."

"There were many donors to choose patches from. I'm wearing a new skin now. They even tried their best to recover my lips." The failed result smiled at her ruthlessly. "I'm barley recognizable anymore. But you, Alana, you're still wearing the old suits as if you were to impress Hannibal Lecter."

She considered his words carefully, observing him as he slowly took a walk through the room. There was something new to him, an almost unpredictable element.

"Did you just want me to look at your face with regret or does this visit serve any purpose worth my time?", she finally said in a cool tone.

A sound that resembled laughter escaped through Frederick's teeth. "Ironically, you're one of the few who endure this sight." He turned around to her. "However, this isn't my inducement for this visit. I believe it was a year ago you asked me the first time about information about Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham. I'm here to comply with your request now."

She lifted an eyebrow. "What do you mean by that, Frederick?"

"You be the judge. It is something you should see with your own eyes."

He made a gesture to follow him. Alana hesitated for a moment. Not a second she trusted Frederick Chilton, but did she have a choice?

Eventually she took the offer and walked behind him to his car, which he had parked outside of the residence in front of the gate.

There was no driver in sight and while she set on the passengers seat Frederick squeezed in behind the steering wheel. She had ordered the guards not to follow them, since she had the feeling that what Frederick would show her was something they should rather not have knowledge about.

When the man started the motor she couldn't help herself but stare at his profile. It reminded her of Mason Verger in an abstract way, just more pathetic and almost pitiable. As he looked up and returned the glance, she turned to the window on the right, where the endless fields covered with snow began to blend into complete whiteness when the vehicle started to move.

After a while in silence Frederick started talking again.

"How did you come to search in Rome?"

"Hannibal would want to show Europe to Will, make an impression. Rome with it's fine art held this opportunity as well as a hint of danger to be caught. He has a taste for that."

Now it was him that scrutinized her.

"Not many people on this side have such a feel for him and his taste, like you do."

She didn't reply, focusing on the road that took them further and further away from the ice palace, past fields and trees.

Frederick inhaled the cold air, shuddering. "On the other side we have Will Graham of course… And Hannibal's guard, Chiyoh. By catching her you would almost have known the two save behind bars again."

"She didn't cooperate, but Palermo is not too far fetched as a place they could be at when you think of their history together." She paused, contemplating his words. "You believe that I offer a gateway to catch them?"

"I have no doubts about that. It's just a question of how." He replied pondering and Alana wasn't very convinced these words were supposed to be encouraging. She rather asked herself what that would prompt him to plan. "Nevertheless it wasn't smart to let his guard go."

She laughed dryly. "You hope you could persuade Chiyoh to give you something that could lead you to their hiding place? We forced to release her because we were under the wary eyes of the FBI. Since she is nowhere to be found."

"I did find her."

They were driving into the woods now. The trees hushed past like threatening shadows and an uncomfortable feeling spread in Alana's stomach.

Finally the car stopped and they got out.

"What is it that you would like to show me in the middle of nowhere, Frederick?", she asked, trying to overplay her nervousness, following him.

"I have been asking myself if your latest investigations and your cooperation with Jack Crawford didn't bear fruits."

They were leaving the road now, going deeper into the thicket of the woods. Alana walked behind him, her heart beating loudly.

The notion that Frederick Chilton's knowledge about the case led them into the middle of a forest barley two miles from her new home was straining, not to say terrifying.

If there was a lead right in front of her, she should have seen it. Maybe trying to get into Will's and Hannibal's heads by reading all the information she had over and over, had clouded her mind and made her blind for reality.

What worried her more was the confidence Frederick stepped foreward with. This was in no way a coincidence, just like the fact that he had found her here it couldn't be explained by that. The suspicion that he was more involved in the case than she would have liked him to be, was an almost undeniable truth now.

The trees opened up to a glade and Frederick stopped, blocking Alana's view for a moment. When he started moving foreward she discovered an elevated spot on the even ground. Color was shining through the layer of snow that had spread over the whole area throughout the night. As they came closer the unclear image developed into a blurry shape. Without another word Frederick took a step to the side for Alana to see.

Her eyes widened as her brain identified the shape as a human body.

It took a second until she recognized the beautiful face with the soft lineaments, framed by black hair, sticking out of the snow. The woman's lips where almost blue and the natural blush she had had the last time Alana had seen her, wasn't to find on the bloodless cheeks. Death had transformed Chiyoh into something barley recognizable.

Alana's first impulse was to run away, to leave Frederick behind with the body, to get to the car somehow. But she couldn't allow herself to run away.

Exhaling the air she said composed, "This discovery is no coincidence, just like finding my whereabouts isn't one."

"I didn't stir a finger, Alana." His voice was calm and without contemptuous sarcasm.

"How did you know about her death then?"

"I was just closely watching."

She didn't dare to turn around, but after a while she heard his footsteps in the snow, leaving her behind with the news to sink in. It all was spinning through her head without stopping and leaving her time to really contemplate. That Frederick hadn't lured her into a trap nor seemed to be responsible for Chiyoh's death left her with some sort of relieve; but what kind of doors did this assessment open? It was hard to say there was anything positive about this situation.

Frederick's words were misleading and obscure just like his actions. There was a certain self righteousness laying beneath it, something that didn't have her best interest in mind. And yet he had just revealed something of importance to her.

Not sure how long she had stood there, her hands deep in her pockets, unable to move, she took out her phone to call her wife.

Alana already felt more composed when the noise of Margot's SUV finally interrupted the silence of the forest. Seconds later she was joined by her on the glade. Margot's eyes wandered over the corpse, making her own judgement about what Alana had revealed on the phone.

Her concerned look met Alana's, inquiring if it was what she believed it to be. But Alana shook her head. "This is not Hannibal's work. He would have displayed her….This was someone entirely else."

She was aware that the words didn't offer much comfort.

"Then I can't imagine her murder will be appreciated by him." She swallowed. "I'm afraid the consequences will affect us."

"Not if it never comes to light."

Both looked at each other, apprehension and determination in their eyes.

Alana bent down to free the frozen corpse from snow and mud. It was stiff and completely cold, which made it easier than thought to lift it up together and to carry Chiyoh to the SUV.

* * *

Days later she could still smell death on herself when she met with Jack Crawford far from the icy winter in Virginia. She hadn't met him since two month in which each of them had followed their own leads.

The first thing she now noticed about his appearance was how thin he had become. His cheeks were sunken in and his eyes starred at her out of their deep sockets tired and bloodshot.

"I haven't seen you in a long while, Alana. You look strained."

She hadn't worried about her appearance too much, but interpreted strained as a euphemism for nowhere near alive looking. But she didn't take amiss with it.

"I am," she confirmed. "The last months have left their mark on you as well, Jack. Was it rewarded at least?"

"I have my hope that Hannibal will notice my baits. But it will require all of my patience I suppose." It evoked a light smile on his lips. "You said you have made a significant discovery."

Alana set down. She had decided to confront Jack with it directly. "Nothing significantly good. Our only connection to Hannibal and Will took a bullet through the chest."

To her surprise his expression remained unmoved. No real shock made it's way to the surface as he replied calmly. "I haven't read anything about a murder in the papers, not even Freddy Lounds picked it up..."

"I didn't allow myself to take the risk of her being found and Hannibal hearing about it in god knows what country he currently is in."

"You removed her body."

She answered him with silence. Going so far as hiding possible evidence from the FBI, was something she wasn't proud to call part of her repertoire of methods, but she doubted it would shock or even bother Jack.

"Who do you think is responsible for it if not Hannibal or Will?" He said as if he could read her mind. There was something calm to the level of apathy in his eyes.

"You."

His silence was provoking her, making her eyes narrow. She had had time to think about him and his motives as well as what role she played in all of it, but she wanted to hear the confirmation out of his mouth. "Why did you keep from me that you have finally found her after all these months? Your common sense should have led you to use her as a source for information instead of killing her."

"I had my reasons, Alana." He replied. "The last time you were in charge Will and Hannibal slipped away…. Would I have known them to be in Palermo I had killed them."

How different Jack was from the FBI agent that once had cooperated with her now seemed so obvious to Alana. Maybe she should have regarded him more carefully from the beginning. Alone his intentions for Will Graham were so distinct from hers.

And it made her blood boil how unmoved Jack was sitting there, how he treated the betrayal as justified and simply a law of nature.

"You possibly destroyed the last chance we had to find Hannibal and Will." She suddenly found herself yelling at him, her hands pressed down on the table.

"She would have never revealed their whereabouts to us." He paused. "Killing her seemed much more beneficial. I had hoped that Hannibal would take interest in the death of his guard, that it would lure him here."

"That it would lure him to me." She nodded, tears in her eyes. The forest near her residence in which Chiyoh's body had been dumped hadn't been chosen randomly. "The evidence was cleverly placed to make it look like I wanted to get rid of his spy observing me. I was your bait and you would have taken my death into account."

"This is nothing personal Alana. I know you fooled yourself into believing you could save yourself from Hannibal….But we are all dead. Will Graham, your family, you and me." His firm voice didn't allow her to lower her eyes. "All we can do is prevent others from being killed by him."

* * *

The Foyer was full. Rich colors and polite smiles wherever he looked. It was hard to find anyone particular between the fancy dresses and suits. When he stepped out of the corridor with the restrooms his eyes scanned the crowd that had developed within the few minutes he had been away. Every color, every high pitched laughter was a distraction to his senses.  
He had to stretch his neck a few times until he finally found who he searched for. The man stood at the other end of the room, dressed in a plait suit. A small circle of three people surrounded him, seemingly fairly interested in what he had to say.

Keeping his eyes down Will pushed through the crowd, careful not to spill someone's champagne.

When Hannibal had asked him to be his company when going to the concert Will had had his doubts, not because he didn't take interest in the orchestra, but rather because of the social conventions that would be included. But Hannibal just knew how to get him to say yes to something.

Finally he had made his way through the crowd and positioned himself beside the man. As Hannibal noticed him he smiled and tugged Will's arm closer to him, presenting him to the rest of the group.

"What a pleasure you're joining us. May I introduce you? This is Mrs. Sevilla and her husband with an acquaintance of mine, Gabriela Luciano." Will nodded friendly towards them."And this is my husband Conor."

Shyly Will looked down as they greeted him. While the idea of being married as part of their new identities was something Will had gotten used to fairly quickly, his new name still didn't really feel fitting. Since Hannibal never called him by it when they were alone he wasn't used to it by any means.

"A pleasure to meet you, Conor.", the man across from them said with a slight Spanish accent. He was wearing a tuxedo and a well-groomed beard framed a face with wrinkles around the eyes. "We were just talking about dinner parties. Me and my wife would be glad to invite you and your husband together with Gabriela."

With subtle reproach he looked at Hannibal, aware that he wouldn't be able to wind out of this politely. His lips curling to smile as he turned to the other man. "Well, I assume we can't decline such a promising invitation."

"Then we'll be glad to have you on tomorrows evening."

The older woman on his side nodded as a confirmation, the smile on her lips appearing forced. Will could imagine the company with the couple was hardly something to look forward to.

"What did you think of the concert?",the younger woman, he assumed to be Gabriela, changed the subject.

"Very impressive. I enjoyed it...", he replied in hope not to be forced to expand on the topic. Even though he had liked the concert, he didn't have a lot to offer when it came to discussing the fine arts in depth.

"I enjoyed the piano especially." She continued enthusiastically and then looked at Hannibal as if something had suddenly come to her mind."I know that Aaron's passion for the fine arts doesn't end with his appreciation of the work of others. Too bad I never heard him playing before. But I'm curious, Conor, is there an instrument you play?"

"I'm not quite as talented as my husband, but he taught me a few pieces on the piano."

"I can't say it was easy to convince him, but now he plays beautifully." Hannibal remarked with a subtle smirk.

Mrs. Sevilla who had listened quietly so far, ended the subject by noting, "Your accent sounds American to me. Since when do you live in Buenos Aries?"

She was watching him with a mixture of curiosity and a gleam of wariness in her eyes.

"It is about a year now." Will quickly replied before Hannibal had the chance to.

Actually they were just visiting over the weekend and their house was a few miles from the city, but their new company didn't have to know that.

It had been hard to stay so secluded for the entire year in the small house Hannibal had bought. Argentina didn't grant them the liberties they had had in Italy. After their escape in Palermo they indeed had moved onto the list of the FBI's most wanted and as Will had secretly hoped, the photo of him and Hannibal in front of the hotel had accompanied various headlines about them.

After a forced dialog about the beauty of the city the woman ceased the questions. But as the conversation between Hannibal, her husband and Gabriella carried on, Will caught her staring at him almost wary. Whenever he glimpsed back at her, her expression changed and suddenly she seemed more uncomfortable.

After a few more minutes Will excused himself and Hannibal for the evening.  
He led him outside and Hannibal suggested to have dinner in one of the restaurants in the area, nothing too simple of course. To Will's surprise he didn't appear very irritated about the sudden end of the evening with the new company.

The choice of restaurant didn't disappoint him. Even though the food could not earn up to the level of the meals Hannibal usually cooked, Will was satisfied with his vegetable plate. Chewing the mellow vegetables he would have almost forgotten about his worries.

"Have you noticed this suspicious look on Mrs. Sevilla's face?" He finally asked Hannibal.

These distrustful eyes didn't leave him alone, but he had the concern that his suspicion about her was just a product of his imagination.

"Her staring was everything but subtle." Hannibal agreed calmly and Will bit his lip, not sure if he should be relieved or alarmed. "I was under the impression she has recognized you, Will. I would almost say Freddie Lounds' articles spread wider than the FBI wanted posters. And usually she prefers to focus on you in her articles. An old habit she never put off."

The man was still regularly reading Tattlecrime, which Will had to admit, was smart considering every little rumor that came up about the FBI's investigations was published there.

He couldn't hold back a light laughter, then he turned serious again.

"If she was still in doubt when we left she will have assured herself of her observation by now by telling her husband."

Hannibal took a sip of his whine.

"Time will consolidate her suspicion about us. But fortunately we are invited to dinner. I think the visit can't wait until tomorrow in this case; and didn't you say yourself we couldn't decline such a promising invitation?"

"It just became promising really."

* * *

The Sevilla's lived in the more pricy area of Buenos Aires and it didn't even cost Will and Hannibal half an hour to get there. Hidden behind a hedge, a large garden with a futuristic construct of architecture as a house rising from it, presented itself in the dark of the night.

Will had worried about the neighbors getting suspicious about a car parking there so late, but the house stood rather lonely on its ground and the only other residence in sight was dark and empty.

Through the steal gate him and Hannibal could catch a glimpse on the light on the upper floor, but nothing seemed to move. At the least the Sevilla's seemed to be at home and they didn't have to wait to be sure they were not already at the police station.

By now Will's fear of a second capture had faded completely and was replaced by excitement. He had the feeling that this time the situation was under their control. The Sevilla's were a problem that could be dealt with easily.

Armed with a knife in his pocket Will walked toward the residence, Hannibal right beside him. He tried to avoid a jarring sound that could have alarmed the Sevilla's when he pushed the gate open. To his relieve it was swinging open quietly without any need to break a lock.

When they reached the door Will already noticed something wasn't quite right and he was only assured of this feeling when Hannibal was able to push the front door open without any problem. No wealthy couple in their right mind would leave their gate and their front door unlocked and even ajar. But before Will could deem it as a trap, Hannibal was swallowed by the darkness of the inside of the house. Careful to make no sound he followed him, one hand in his back pocked, ready to pull out the knife.

The room they found themselves in didn't provide any source of light and Will could barely see anything. He moved carefully, relying on his senses. It wasn't long until he could sense Hannibal right in front of him again.

He could see a movement and then all the sudden everything turned bright as Hannibal turned on the light. Will had to blink a few times until he could finally see his surroundings properly.  
The sight of the crime scene petrified him, while the coppery smell of blood made its way into his nose.


	7. Chapter 7

Will exhaled the air slowly as he let his eyes wander over the scene.  
Laying on the back of the couch he could identify Mrs. Sevilla in her blue dress under a coat of blood. She was on her back, the head and arms hanging down the back of the furniture, making them invisible to anyone who didn't come close enough to look at the body from above. Abdominal organs were hanging out of her Stomach.  
Across from her Will discovered the remains of her husband, who appeared to be starring at her with his dead eyes. He had been victim of a similar fate, but only his upper half was sitting in the chair, while his legs laid careless on the floor beneath him. Sitting on his own organs he still was bleeding onto the blood soaked cushion.

Will looked over to Hannibal who took in the crime scene, his expression vigilant.

Careful to not leave any traces the man stepped closer to the body on the couch. Even now his movements where elegant and smooth.  
As Will followed his example he saw that the woman's throat was cut and the blood running down had created a puddle of blood on the marble floor.

"These wounds are still fresh. If my senses don't deceive me Mr. and Mrs. Sevilla were still alive half an hour ago." Hannibal bend down to get a closer look of the neck wound. "Someone was quicker than we were."

"Somebody must have followed them after the concert.", Will said, looking around, scanning the room for something that indicated what exactly they had just stumbled into. His eyes rested on the silver phone on the floor. Pulling his sleeve over his hand he picked it up and went through the list of calls that had been made in the last days.  
He almost let out a sigh of relieve when he was sure the Sevilla's hadn't made an emergency call.

"I think they were about to call the police. It was either a reaction to the break-in of the killer or a reaction to us. Either way I hardy believe this is a coincidence."

Hannibal stepped beside him. "Convenient for us. We would have probably been to late to prevent a call that would have brought the authority's attention on us."

Will placed the phone on the floor where he found it.

"But in who's interest would doing us a favor be?"

The whole picture didn't make sense. The only person that had come to his mind as willing to kill for them in order to guarantee protection was Chiyoh. But giving it a second thought he tossed the idea away. She didn't know that the were in Argentina and even if she did she would have killed more precised and in an inconspicuous manner.

"The primary motive for doing someone a favor is usually the expectation that this favor will be returned in the future."

Will left the crime scene on Hannibal's side with the feeling he would have to revisit his days as a criminal profiler soon.

* * *

After Hannibal had slipped under the blanket, Will turned off the light. He laid back with an exhausted sight. "I don't think I will be able to sleep."

Hannibal pressed himself against his back, one hand running through his hair. The tickling sensation made Will smile. "I can still smell blood on you, Will. It has settled in you hair, your skin. Does it frustrate you that were denied spilling it yourself tonight?"

"More than you would think," He admitted, sucking in the air as Hannibal's mouth was exploring his neck area. "But my excitement is overshadowed by all the questions I have about this. The crime scene almost seemed to reflect our murders, Hannibal."

"Someone is admiring us."

"With killing the Sevilla's the killer solely wanted to do us a favor?" Regretfully he stopped Hannibal's kisses by turning around to him. He couldn't ignore the worrying aspects about the murders, couldn't give into pleasure now. "For that the benefit their death presents is too little….Such a violent crime on such rich people comes to the attention of the media."

"I dare to doubt an attack on our behalf wouldn't have had the same effect.", Hannibal objected "the moment Mrs. Sevilla connected your face to what she saw in the papers her life came to an end. From there on it was all about mitigation measures."

Will looked down, sure that even in the dark Hannibal could see his face. "We should have thought about the repercussions of showing our faces in public earlier."

"Don't say you weren't warned about what life with me would be like. Never solely in a save cage, but always on the dangerous hunting grounds.", the man whispered, the sharpness of the words petrifying Will. The argument about his distaste for luring who they left behind here and his fear of getting caught had been held and was long over now. But he still remembered Hannibal's words in his ears as he had hugged him tightly. _I'm aware of what you are capable of. And I'm confident that you will catch whatever slips through my fingers before it can do us any harm, Will._

"And I don't regret coming with you."

As he reached out for Hannibal's strong torso, he felt his hand lifting up his chin.

"Then you want to talk about damage control when the hunting grounds become a risk to walk on?", He asked conciliatory.

Will pulled himself closer to him to put his head on the mans chest. The steady breathing calmed him down. "Seclusion is our friend again from now on. I don't want us to be caught in the spotlight this incident is throwing on this place." He closed his eyes as Hannibal's arm slid around his chest. "We should try to find this killer, before he can do us any harm."

"Stopping him would be nothing more than damage control. Sooner or later we will have to turn to the root of what is haunting us."

Hannibal was well aware of what had held Will back from fully enjoying their life together. He had often been already waiting when Will woke up from an upsetting dream about Baltimore.

They were barely a year in Argentina now and he had just settled down in the new environment. For the first time since their escape in Palermo Will had felt save and free from distracting thoughts about Baltimore poisoning his mind. But now the past and the fear of Alana or Jack invading his new life was tugging on his mind again. And Hannibal just waited for him to give in to the reality that he could never shake off the past completely without following him back to kill them all.

He didn't answer and the other man said gently, "If this killer is playing with us, he will keep in touch, Will."

* * *

The killer did keep in touch. Five days later the brutal murder of a young man was in the news, a reporter describing what was known so far, standing right in front of the museum the body had been found in. Behind her police cars and a caution tape could be identified, shielding the scene from the crowd that had gathered around the building.

Standing in the doorway Will followed the report. At this point his Spanish was good enough for him to understand the majority of what was said and he listened attentively.

When the moderator switched to another topic, Hannibal, sitting upright on the couch, turned off the tv and looked at Will.

"Looks like our admirer has established contact.", Will remarked more sarcastic than he had intended.

"The police seems confident to connect this murder to our killer already and I have no doubt they are right with that assumption. However more details would give a better insight…."

Will shrugged and sat down in front of the computer on the desk. "strangled and mutilated, resembles the Sevilla murder. it is something to start with at least.", he said considering. "This time his acts might connect to us as well, maybe he caught someone else who recognized our faces."

"This young man didn't seem familiar to me." Hannibal said twisting his body uncomfortably to make eye contact with Will. "There might be no connection from the victim to us. The killer used it to establish contact once, now the connection might solely be reflective in his technique. With choosing the museum to display his art he mirrors you, Will, makes a commentary on the murder of Randall Tier. Last time his work already held a resemblance to both your and my murders."

"If he is so interested in us he might have recognized us at that evening at the concert." He paused as he scrolled through the results his search for the newest murder case in Buenos Aires had presented. "He took organs in both murders. Whatever his motive might be, he isn't just drawing our attention to him, but the attention of others on us. If no one is suspecting anything yet, they soon will."

"What now is a vague lead might become monumental if he continues. This copycat might mean some trouble to our life, Will."

Will didn't answer, didn't want to think about all the possible consequences further. In silence he read what the media offered him about the latest murder and its connection to the Sevilla case and possibly other murders. If this predator was targeting him and Hannibal, he had to find as much information about him as possible to get into his head.

The reports were way more detailed than he would have thought and he read each carefully. Except for the location the body was placed, the latest crime scene didn't seem to hold much resemblance to Will's display of Randal Tier. This way of killing had been much more violent and disorganized.

A few sources even tied a whole series of murders to the last two cases. Apparently the first murder of this serial killer reached back two years, when a middle aged woman had been found in a back alley, strangled and horribly mutilated. A year later a second victim was dumped in the area, strangled with the head sawed open and a part of the skull missing. The last case that was tied to the first two was the assault of a younger man, who's throat had been slashed. There was no further mutilation besides the severed head that remained missing to this day.  
Despite no photo's being provided, Will had very clear picture of it in his mind.

When he finished his read he turned around to Hannibal, who was still sitting on the couch, now a book in his lap.  
He looked up when Will stood up.

"According to some theories our _admirer_ has been busy for the last two years. There are three cases tied to him, in which all mutilation and a high degree of brutality played a role.", he reported back, slowly walking up and down the room. The profile was a little clearer now and he could already make out a pattern. Like the Argentinian police he was careful to attribute all of these murders to one and the same person.

"And what do you see, Will?" Hannibal scrutinized him intensively and for a moment Will felt like he was back at the former psychiatrist's office, discussing one of Jack's cases with him. Here they were playing the old game again, trying to catch a killer while turning Will into one.

"He definitely isn't responsible for all the murders they would like to blame on him. The first murder doesn't fit the pattern. The modus operandi appears to be the same, but he didn't take trophies. In all the other cases he did, just like in the latest."

Ribs and two organs had been taken from the Sevilla's and the man at the museum.

Hannibal pondered. "And yet the pattern is too similar to dismiss it. He might have first sought some inspiration in the work of someone else until he decided to act upon his fantasy." He replied in his velvet voice. "I would assume him to be rather young. He is still experimenting, attempting to find his identity. With this killing spree he might let come true what he so far has only admired from a distance."

"Ignited by you and me?" Will raised an eyebrow. "No, I'm almost sure he killed before. He is a copycat killer now and he was it before when he strangled his first victim and slashed the second one's throat. This blur of signatures might be experimentation, but there is skill behind his work. His experimentation lies in another aspect than simply taking lives." Will paused searching for the right words. "is it just my paranoid mind or is the purpose behind these killings to draw attention to us? I have the feeling his intend is malicious rather than admiring."

Hannibal took a deep breath. "One truth doesn't exclude the other. You can act out of admiration to draw this person closer to you and yet this can be perceived as malicious because the outcome bears certain consequences."

* * *

In his dream Will stepped outside on the terrace and let his eyes wander over the lake. It almost felt like it was a video played in a time lapse, only allowing his consciousness to brush over the events lightly.

Just for a split second he could see himself standing on the opposite shore, starring and leaving the impression he was frowning upon Will. On his shoulder rested Jack Crawford's hand and when the reflection of himself vanished, the man remained standing while his sympathetic expression turned into a grimace. His eyes seemed to be burning, but Will shivered at the sight of it. He knew the piercing eyes alone couldn't hurt him, make his empathy rebel against him and evoke so much guilt that he would drown himself in the black water. As long as Jack didn't cross the water he was safe on this shore.  
The lake was laying between them now and yet only coming near the border between the two worlds, would suck both shores into its abyss instantly. Will was sure of that like one knew these things to be true in dreams.  
And then he realized the water was slowly getting less and less, revealing more of the soil and rocks and he was suddenly falling.

Will's eyes snapped open as he was heavily breathing. Only slowly he calmed down and to his delight he noticed that Hannibal was still asleep. He wasn't armed for a discussion about his dreams and fears now.

Jack, Alana, his old family, they had all been more frequent visitors to his mind in the last days, forcing Will to think about them and evoking an uncomfortable feeling of lack of clarity. None of them were welcome in his head, they were following him like persistent shadows he needed to get rid of.

After he had gone to the bathroom to let the cold water run over his face, Will couldn't find any sleep. He sat down in front of the computer in the living room and again searched for the murders the latest cases had been tied to. The killer didn't leave him alone when he was awake as long he was out there and a potential danger to his life with Hannibal.

He scrolled down he found several articles on the individual cases and opened the first decent looking one. Will had just decided to dedicate the night to creating a profile of this killer by bringing all his crimes into order.

Studying different murders he bit his lip. He wasn't quite sure how to categorize this predator. The high degree of brutality tied the crimes together and the violence and mutilation seemed to escalate with each case, but there always seemed to be one common factor. In some cases he would strangle his victims, in rarer cases use a knife to take their life. The most significant aspect about the killer seemed to be his insignificance, his lack of an own signature. However at every single assault he used a knife or a saw to mutilate the body, always being particularly fascinated by the bones.

He was sure this killer had comitted more crimes, had started at some point. Despite him being a copycat killer there had to be more behind these attacks, which all could be characterized as almost disorganized. It seemed to Will that this killer was driven by something more than admiration and was unable to stop.

After a while he came across a case that caught his attention. At first sight there didn't seem to be much resemblance to the other crimes, but there was something about it that stood out for him. In the range of the four murders he attributed to the killer, this was the youngest victim and seven years had passed since.

It was a name that made the picture clear for him. Marlene Suárez; he had read this this name before. In this report she was mentioned as the older cousin of the victim, with which the girl last had been seen with, but in an article about the second murder Marlene Suárez had been listed as one of the suspects.

Will leaned back in the chair, starring at the bright screen with the picture of the young girl.

Her thirdteen year old cousin strangled and mutilated in the heat of the moment, this was the birth of the killer, he was sure now. It was the first time this predator had become aware of the dark lurking in the back of her head and she had manged to hide it back there for almost six years, because she was never caught.

He typed her name in the search engine and then scanned through the information he needed. Now the pieces all fit together, he thought. The fact that Marlene Suárez lived in Buenos Aires was more of a confirmation to what he already was sure of then actual news. This young woman could possibly be the killer he was searching for.

Careful to not make any noise he got up and got his jacket to then slowly close the door behind him. He felt forced to pay her a visit now, to make a clear picture of her true intentions. It was something he felt deep down he had to figure out for himself without Hannibal.

* * *

Marlene Suárez had her home in a middle class neigborhood, Will discovered when he turned into the wide street. Since it was almost 2 am in the morning everything was quiet here, only in the distance he could hear the noises of a heated argument.

He drove down the street once to see where her house was and then parked the car right around the corner. It was better if no one would remember his car later, even though he wasn't sure yet if this kind of cautiousness would be nessecary. On the drive to Buenos Aires he hadn't really decided if he had come here to kill the woman or what to do after all.

Will got out of the car and walked toward her house. As he got closer his legs were moving more hesitant. There was no plan, he had to admit that to himself. Why was even here? What had he thought would he do when he was so close to confronting the copycat killer?  
He didn't want to kill her, not before he had understood her motives fully. On the other hand he began to question how he should even establish contact with Marlene Suárez. It seemed ridiculous to him to knock on her door in the middle of the night, demanding to talk to her about two murders.

Maybe he had to abduct her and bring her somewhere else, he considered. For now he decided to go around the house to find an entrance.

Moving slowly in the shadows he took a look into one of the windows on the side of the small house. The interior seemed to be completly dark and the narrow window didn't present any chance to get inside. When he turned around to move om to the back of the house, pressed against its wall, he bumped into something. Immediatly a loud clatter was to hear.  
Will cursed himself for his stupidity when he discovered that he had knocked over a dustbin, that had now crashed into a pile of other objects. He tried to move faster now. If someone had heard the noise, it would only be seconds until they would come to see what had happened.

When he got around the corner Will sneaked to the back door, hoping it wouldn't be locked. As he tried to open it he suddenly felt someone behind him. In the next moment pain flashed through the back of his head and he fell down, quickly loosing his consciousness.


	8. Chapter 8

**Sorry for the late update, but school was very stressful this week and I didn't have much time for writing.**

 **Anyway. I hope you enjoy and I always appreciate your feedback!**

* * *

When Will came back to consciousness his body felt wet as if had just awoken from another nightmare. But the pitch-dark he found himself in didn't offer any comfort and he had to rely on his other senses to convince himself he wasn't still caged in his own mind.

There was a chemical smell in the air, but Will could detect a familiar note in it. It's intensity worsened his headache.

Slowly he tried to get up, hoping to be able to orient himself. But his legs were shaking as if he was a new born fawn. Everything in his head was still spinning around and as his hands reached for support they sank into warm, sticky tissue. As if an electric shock had been caused by the feeling on his fingertips, he withdrew the hand and stumbled backwards. The hunch of what he was touching there made his wish to get out of where ever he was here more urging.

Then he realized that the warm fluid his hands were covered in, was all over his body, his face, made his shirt stick to his skin.  
He needed to get out, fill his lungs with fresh air and let his eyes see his surroundings again. Still tumbling he started moving around, his arms reaching out for the wall, searching for an exit. But there was only stone, plain and without a door or even a switch. With any second with this uncertainty where he was and what had happend, his shirt seemed to get tighter around his chest, preventing his lungs from exspanding.

He pressed his lips together to not scream and wished this indeed turned out to be just a nightmare and he would finally wake up. But This didn't happen. Instead his hasty hands were stopped by something sticking out of the wall and Will recognized that it was a door handle.

New energy pumped into his veins and he gripped it hectic to pull the door open.

The brightness of the neon lights he was facing reinforced his headach, and he instinctively turned back to the darkness. With the dazzling light shining into the room he could finally see what he before had only taken in with his other senses. The room was more of a hall, bare and naked, but a few meters from the door a mess of flesh and blood spread over the floor.

A glimpse was enough for Will to recognize that this was what he had fled from and as he looked down on himself in the neon light it became evident that the warmth on his skin was causes by fresh blood. He didn't know if it was his own or if he had been bathing in the unidentifyable remains, but at least he didn't feel any pain that would suggest that he was bleeding out.

Thoughts and memories were still tumbling in Will's head, not giving him a proper image.

He wondered if this was the body of Marlene Suárez, if he had lost the last bit of control and torn of her flesh. But he had no recollection of the time since he had sneaked to her backdoor and couldn't assure him that he was wrong with this assumption.

His whole body shaking, he started running down the corridor, hearing his own steps like they were thunder on the ground. His mind was blank, but he was suddenly seized by the fear that someone would find him here with the blood all over him. He just had to run until this corridor ended and he found a way out of here, an explaination how he had gotten to this place.

Under the sound of his own footsteps and panting he heard another pair of shoes tapping over the floor. Panting he stopped in front of the next corner and turned around, not sure from which direction the sound was comming. Too late he realized that the steps were right behind him.

Before he could shoot around or run, an arm had already wrapped itself around his throat, trying to pull him from his feet. The grip was tight, but Will managed to get his balance back, while his fingers digged into the skin to rip the arm off him.

"Why did you have to run?" The voice of his attacker was a sharp hissing in his ears. Will instinctively turned away his head as far as he could from the breath on his neck. "You will go back where I left you. I don't like the idea that I have to drag you all the way back there, Mr. Graham."

The mention of his name flashed through him like an electrical shock and confirmed his suspicion that he had the copycat killer behind him. Another fear arose from this realisation and gasped.

"Who did you leave me to die with?", he pressed out between his teeth. Though he hadn't really seen much of the remains, he hoped that his mind wasn't tricking him into remembering female features. But he couldn't rule out the possibility that he and Hannibal had been the copycat killer's final victims.

As the grip loosened a little his fingers slid into his pocket, searching for a knife with which he could end this. But there was nothing there.

"I had other plans than dying for you."

With one quick movement Will winded out of her grip. Face to face with his attacker he was looking into the dark eyes of a tall woman, that without doubt had to be Marlene Suarez.

Using her confusion to his adventage he rammed his fist into her stomach with all the strength he had left. Gasping for air she stumbled backwards.

He could feel his strength fading already, his temples pulsating and his mouth aching for a drop of water.

And then she was already attacking him again, a hit against his head, causing arching pain to flash through his skull. In the next moment he found himself pushed against the wall, the air being pressed out of his lungs. Again their was a hand on his throat and when he opened his eyes he starred right into her eyes, rage and fear alike reflecting in it. Not one second he doubted that these eyes had seen oceans of blood.

He made a last attempt to push her away, exhausted and still so confused. Then a bloodcurdling scream cut through the air and interrupted the violence. Both him and the woman remained frozen for a second, their muscles loosening.  
Fast steps followed the earsplitting noise, getting louder and coming closer towards them. But before they were close enough to evoke a second scream at the sight of his bloodstained self, Will pushed Marlene away before she could react, instantly taking over control once there was a distance between them. Quickly he grabbed her and turned her around, covering her mouth with one hand while his eyes hectically swichted from side to side.

When he had finally found an unlocked door near him he pushed it open and dragged her inside with him. Quietly as possible he let the door close shut behind them, caging them in total darkness again.

Until the steps hurried past them there was only breathing and her desperate attempt to get his hand off her mouth, which only caused him to press against it harder. Nobody was supposed to see him here covered in blood.

adrenaline were rushing through his system. He felt lost and thrown back in time, standing there without any idea where he was and what had happened in the last hours or days.

Finally he was sure it was over. As is muscles relaxed a little he realized how convulsive his grip was. He loosened it, not giving up control entirely, and she didn't fight back anymore. Instead she got heavier, her weight leaning against his.

Frantic he checked if Marlene was still breathing and to his delight he detected a steady rise and fall of her chest.

Without losing anymore time he exited the building and found himself on an empty parking lot. The sun was just rising behind the factories in the distance, coloring the sky in pastel a warm orange. To his delight he could see the some of the familiar buildings of Buenos Aires in the background.

Only one vehicle was to find in the early morning hours, and there was a good chance in belonged to Marlene Suarez.

* * *

The unconscious copycat killer on the backseat, he headed out of the area, his foot heavy on the gas pedal, since he could already hear sirens in the distance.

Soon there was movement behind him. Will could see the young woman's dark eyes starring at him as he took a look in the rear view mirror. He couldn't find the rage in them he had seen before, but it occurred to him that something about her reminded him of Abigail.

"Where will you bring me now?", her voice sounded calm, but it couldn't hide the insecurity that laid in the question.

What would he do now? Will hadn't thought about it, had just acted out of impulses and his survival instinct. "You are lucky I didn't kill you already." he pressed his lips together, not in the mood to engage in a conversation with the pain still splitting his skull. "I'll bring you to Hannibal, we can then decide your fate."

She sighted, obviously not surprised by his answer and yet not contend with it.

"There is a police car a few vehicles behind us.", she warned him when they just had entered one of the main roads.

A look in rear view mirror confirmed her claim and Will started to drum his fingers on the steering wheel, while trying to catch a glimpse of the officers inside.

For a spit moment he had the feeling the serious looking man was returning his gaze, fixating on his vehicle suddenly. Instinctively he lowered his eyes.

The police car now got on the lane beside them, driving steadily and then suddenly stopping when the two cars were on the same level.

Will held his breath. It was a traffic light at a crossroad that forced him to remain beside them, his bloodstained shirt clearly visible. The officers were clearly not driving towards the crime scene, but this would be enough to make them suspect something.

His muscles tensed up, ready to react when they would discover him, while remaining as still and unsuspicious as possible, turned to the front only regarding the two men out of the corner of his eye.

The traffic light of the lane beside him swichted to green and the police car shot foreward, turning left, away from him and Marlene.

"If you don't want us to be arrested until then you should take this." Marlene's voice tugged him back into reality. She was reaching out, holding something in her hand. Reluctantly he took a brief look and discovered that it was the woman's jacket. "Put it on or next time it won't end as lucky as now."

He grabbed the black jacket and tried to put it on while driving. In the rush he had totally forgotten that he was covered in blood from his neck downwards.

"You didn't have to do this…This could have been your way out.." He regarded her carefully with a clearer mind. She hadn't tried to kill him, her motives were different. "You're not just the person who is responsible for all these killings, you wanted to frame me and Hannibal for it. I was placed at this crime scene for somebody to find."

She shrugged. "They were after me already. So I tied all these murders to one another and this last one was supposed to show the final picture. This was the only way to distract them, Mr. Graham."

It was good to have clarity about what had happened last night. A dry laughter built of in his throat. The situation was just too absurd.

"I have to warn you, I'm not letting anyone frame me a second time."

"When I saw you and Hannibal Lecter, I knew what I had to do. I was just seizing an opportunity that presented itself."

She was not gentle with her words, but everything she said seemed to have something genuine, almost a certain innocence.

"Your motives go beyond self preservation, don't they? You could have easily picked someone else to copy from and to use as a scapegoat eventually, but you chose to defy two who made it onto the FBI's most wanted list." His voice was drifting into sneering sarcasm. "Who doesn't want to feel the power of tricking someone like Hannibal the Cannibal?"

The streets were slowly clogging with cars and Will couldn't wait to get out of the city. A glimpse on the dashboard told him that it was only the morning after he had gone to Marlene Suarez' house. Just a few hours had passed.

"We all are trying to manipulate the situation to our best. You're the one who knows best how it feels to influence Dr. Lecter and to be influenced by him... But I have had my experiences with him as well." she paused, obviously waiting for a reaction. Will just starred ahead, unwilling to discuss his and Hannibal's relationship with her. "I used to write him letters when he was institutionalized and he used to respond. He was poking around in my head, found a trigger and pulled it. I couldn't stop after that one victim anymore."

He had to bite back a remark about her responsibility for getting in touch with Hannibal, but then he realized that he was guilty of the same actions. Despite being able to refuse he had let Hannibal in his head once again.

"I let him experiment with me, grant him the manipulation just like you did. I think it is just fair if he now returns me a favor and takes responsibility for what he has done.", she continued.

It was odd to think of all the things Hannibal kept from him while being so convincing in the role of someone Will knew intimately. His manipulation was so quiet and maybe, just maybe, it was still affecting him. And it caused a rising heat equally as excitement in him.

"Hannibal is not responsible for your nature. You already discovered the twisted parts of your mind years ago when you took advantage of the vulnerability of your cousin. It would be more accurate to say, you reached out to him to trigger these urges in you again. Even if it was just subconscious...", He paused. They were leaving Buenos Aires behind them, but Will already started sweating when he thought about facing Hannibal. "Don't believe that you would have been able to stop after this murder. The police would have someone behind bars, but sooner or later you would have done it again, and they would have found you. These acts of violence were crucial to you, you were always searching stability in them."

„Pure ecstasy, Mr. Graham. You'd have to understand."

„Oh I do. Destruction becomes the best way to order."

Her lips curled to a light smile and they exchanged looks for a moment. "It always is. And I tried to bring order into it all with my last murder. I was continuing to destroy what I lightly touched upon with my first kill."

He could see the copycat killers design now and he understood almost too good.

"Who did you have to kill to find closure?"

"My sister. She is the only one of my family still around, who is still talking about the death of my cousin….That's where it all began, with my family, and that's were it had to end."

Will remained silent, now knowing what he had to do. His past and with it his old family seemed to be the root of this situation as well. It had overshadowed the life he tried to bring order into for so long. Maybe it was time to approach it with destruction. He had to invade the other shore before someone from there could invade his and Hannibal's side of the lake.

It wasn't a new concept to his mind but the possibility that he had to make a bigger cut then just killing Bedelia, seemed closer to reality this time.

Will turned around and drove back into the big city, away from his home, t _heir_ home.

He couldn't go back to Hannibal now to never escape from him again. This was something he had to think about and approach alone. There needed to be a certainty that the consequences would only destroy him, not his life, not Hannibal.

* * *

Hannibal entered through the backdoor. The place hadn't been hard to find, since the address had been still displayed on the screen of the computer that Will hadn't bothered to turn off last night.  
After all he wasn't surprised that the man had tried to find the killer on his own, his withdrawal in the last week from him hadn't slipped past his attention. Maybe he had placed too much value on convincing Will that returning to their old home once more was necessary, or maybe he had just placed enough value on it to make Will finally give in to it.

However, that Will hadn't returned this morning made him curious what sheets the man had pulled up there.

Inside the house Hannibal moved cautious, always on guard to detect any attempts to lure him into a trap in time. But there were no traps or attackers waiting for him, everything was quiet and empty.

He moved slowly, his senses searching for Will, for his smell, his voice. And his curiosity turned into mild nervousness when there seemed to be no sign of the man.

Slowly he walked trough all the rooms of the one story building. Everything seemed untouched in the interior, like a perfectly normal living space, nothing Hannibal wouldn't have expected. Yet there was one thing that demanded Hannibal's attention. An envelop was placed on the dinner table, his name on the front. Will's handwriting could be easily identified.

Exhaling the air he picked it up and opened it.

 _Dear Hannibal,_

" _we have all found a new life, but our old lives hover in the shadows, like incipient madness."_

 _Even after all that happened in our lives, I can't help but find your warning still very accurate. Despite having turned my back to it, my past has still found a way into my new life with you; maybe even through you.  
Yet your begging isn't as urging as my growing concern the FBI might soon have a breakthrough and find us, because of the ones that survived you. Our present and past seem to exist parallel and when they collide only one can rise while the other one falls._

 _I know you are eager to kill Alana and her family, and maybe I'll do just that; perhaps I will fulfill your wish with taking it from you._

 _The door to madness is still open, but I ask you not to follow me. If I don't have the chance to return to you, it will mean eternal freedom for you. For now I left you my beating heart, our "admirer"._

 _Will_

Hannibal sighed, meticulously folding the letter and putting in into the pocket of his suit.

Eventually he found Marlene Suarez in the basement, tied up and unconscious. It sparked his interest that Will had left her alive, to let him decide, what should happen to her.

Finally Will had joined the game, was starting to play his own part. He understood, Will had to cut out his past in order to live with him, but he didn't want to grant Hannibal the pleasure of winning the game he had instigated. Of course it had to come this way. There always had to be some sort of fight between them, influences were always flowing back and forth, forming and shaping each of them.

Will was teasing him in a way, still considering how far he could go. And Hannibal didn't fear abandonment or betrayal from him for a second, for this the bond that had formed between them had grown to strong.

He only refused to follow his rules, but wasn't it the small grain of resistance and unpredictability that drew him to the younger man?


	9. Chapter 9

After the taxi that he had taken at the airport had arrived at the motel a mile away from Baltimore, Will checked in and decided to take a walk through the nearby park. Standing on US soil again, so close to his former home, he had to rethink what his next steps would be.

Finding closure wasn't as easy now as it had seemed before the departure. But now he was here in Baltimore and there was only one way he could turn to before looking back again. He couldn't crawl to Hannibal now, miss his chance to put his mind to ease.

It was a mix of excitement and nervousness that kept him warm despite the cool temperatures.

He had put headphones in and turned on the radio. It relaxed him a little and besides that the fact that it certainly wouldn't be a disadvantage if he would be up to date with the local news. And it turned out to be more than helpful.

When suddenly a familiar name was dropped after the music had faded out, he knew exactly who would have the honor to be his first victim back in Baltimore. Freddie Lounds was announced to give a live interview at the local radio station tomorrow.

* * *

Sitting in the cafe across from the radio station, Will put back in his earphones to listen to the interview. He was late and it had already begun. As always Freddie's voice had something surgarly sweet and yet was sharp like a blade.

The conversation between the moderator and her revolved manly around Freddie's most scandalous articles and of course that lead to the topic of her coverage of the crimes of the chesapeak ripper and finally to him and Hannibal. He only listened casually as a way to pass the time until his turn had come. Then and now he picked up a few words.

"…. Hannibal Lecter as well as Will Graham have been sighted in different European countries more than once. One source even states they recently were recognized in a restaurant in Washington…..yes, I indeed did know Will Graham very well. I had the pleasure to interview him multiple times and I have to say I got some insight in his mind….. I always suspected that he was dangerous, and I'm sure Agent Crawford did as well. It is difficult to definitely say who made Will Graham a killer, but the FBI should have never let him back into the field….. Of course it is possible that he is just a silent observer who tries to survive Hannibal Lecter, but I think his former involvement in killings he was never convicted of, make that more than implausible."

His mind was wandering off to Hannibal again. He wondered what the man was doing while he was siiting here and above all how he had reacted reading his letter. The memories of the last time he had seen and felt him, reminded Will what was at stakes and that this attack from behind might save them from being caught or cause his arrest. But after all, maybe it was not more than the appeal of Hannibal's sick game that had lead him here.

It had always been a question on his mind, how far Hannibal would let him go, just like the other man was testing the waters with him. Never would Will not return to him if he had a choice, but he wasn't entirely sure if Hannibal was aware of this.

After Freddie Lounds had ended her interview and left the building a few minutes later, Will put the money for his water on the table and followed her. She led him to a motel only a few blocks away. The town seemed to be only a temporary stay for her.

Prending to bind his laces he bend down not too far away from the door she was heading to. When he heard the key turning in the lock he slowly got back on his feet and approached her from behind. She stept inside and let the door slowly close itself behind her, while he could watch her walking deeper into the room.

Will reacted in seconds and put his foot between the door and the frame. Before Freddie could even get close to the entrance he had already forced himself into the room, shutting the door behind them.

Standing in the middle of the room, her wide eyes starred at him in disbelief for a moment, but not a tone escaped her mouth. And then she pressed her lips together firmly, trying to collect herself, while she was never leaving him out of sight.

What could shock her after all she had witnessed? She was probably already thinking about the exclusive article this experience would make….

"You must have listened to my interview..." She remarked dryly when he didn't move away from the entrance.

"Speculation about my life still seem to be interesting enough for you.", he confirmed contemptuously.

„Congratulations Mr. Graham," She moved deeper into the room, stepping backwards "You successfully survived Hannibal Lecter, and I suppose he managed to survive you as well…. I have to speculate on that aspect. It Would be a good survivor story."

The same teasing tone like the last time he had encountered her, Will thought to himself.

He slowly came closer, noticing the alert look in Freddie's eyes, ready to make use of any opportunity to escape. Her back lightly hit the desk at the back of the small room now, and one hand vanished behind her body, grabbing for something on the wooden surface.  
"Don't!" He hissed warning. Without hesitation he crossed the few meters between them and reached out for her arm. But she reacted quickly and Will's fingers were catching nothing but air.

Will had reacted out of an impulse, not knowing what Freddie would attempt. And now it was too late.

The cold barrel of a gun pressed against his stomach, leaving no doubt the bullet was supposed to be fatal, and Freddie looked up to his now close face with determination.

For a moment the feeling let a shiver run down his spine and his fingers closed around the barrel of the gun, knowing how senseless it was.

Will could feel the trigger being pulled and prepared for the pain, but there was only a metallic clicking followed by his scornful smile.

Freddie wasn't very throughout, never had been.

A sour laugh built up as he wrestled the gun out of her resistant fingers. Then he stepped back, weighting the weapon in his palm, checking it for ammunition.

"You will write a story, Freddie, but the subject won't be survival… it will have to be more of an obituary." his eyes wandered back to her as he gestured to the laptop and the desk. "Tell your readers about yourself."

A cruel smile flashed over his lips. Freddie Lounds didn't deserve any better. Why not let her do to herself what she had done to others her whole career?  
Never had she missed a chance to spread her lies and to use him in her articles. Even a year after all of it she still seemed to have the nerves to be the unscrupulous journalist she had always been, but this time he wouldn't allow her to get away with it.

She sat down and opened up the laptop. Their was resistance in her eyes, but she seemed to know better then to disobey.

Quietly Will watched while her fingers glided over the keyboard. Seeming to reconsider her wording she made a few little pauses to then start typing again, not letting the fact that she was held here by a murderer get in her way.

Will didn't care much what was in the text, he used the journalist as a mouthpiece to maybe incite Alana and Jack a little, to make his stay a little more interesting. However, it didn't slip past his attention that she was writing about this very moment, not about her past, her regrets or her achievments. Maybe that was all what was left for Freddie, the here and now. Maybe she didn't need to reference the past and future to express herself, when she had never tried to hide her true nature in the first place and was passing her truths through lies.

Finally the rhythmic sound of her fingers wandering over the keyboard stopped. "You use me to strike a cord with those who are already alert and waiting for you and Hannibal Lecter. Believe me when I tell you, it makes it a lot easier if you announce to them that you have a hostage instead of a body."

Freddie had turned around to him in her chair, watching him cautiously.

„If everybody else hasn't learned that it is better to run away, this will be very easy, Ms. Lounds."

„So I am the first in the row, _your sworn enemy_?"

It amazed and repulsed him at the same time how articulate and cunning she was even if she looked death into the eye. Her previous encounters with killers seemed to have made her indifferent to the thread they posed rather than more cautious.

„You wrote about me and Hannibal, digged up everything you could find about my pivate life and you didn't even have the decency to leave Molly and Walter out of it." He had caught a glimpse over Hannibal's shoulder of such an article and it had shook him with disgust. It was an unnecessary reminder he didn't need to see, that made his stomach turn every time. „I think a lot of people would agree that the world would be a better place without you."

"They probably would." Freddy agreed, a cunning smile on her lips. "But looking past all the hatered you have towards me, you have to admit that I'm not useless to you. I have information that could very well save your ass, Will." She paused for a moment as if she was waiting for his approval and then continued with a sigh when Will didn't show the interest she had hoped for. "As you noticed I paid very close attention to everything regarding your case. I know that Alana Bloom and her wife spend the last year searching for you. After she almost caught the two of you in Italy she decided to work with the FBI again. Her desire to catch you, goes beyond longing for justice, I would dare to say. I don't know how Lecter earned this kind of dedication, but it doesn't seem like she will give up searching for you before she knows him save in her institution."

Will snorted contemptuously. "I'm aware that Alana is out to get us."

Freddie didn't let his attitude discourage her. "So Margot Verger and Alana Bloom will be the next in row... or is Hannibal searching Muskrat farm while we are having a chat here?" Her eyes and voice were so provoking, he almost came to believe she found pleasure in it. "...Because in this case he will be surrounded by guards as soon as he sets foot into the building. The whole residence is a trap."

"How would you know?"

"I experienced in myself when I was doing my research…" she shrugged. "I'll be glad to lead you around these kinds of traps, past Jack Crawford and the FBI."

She looked at him inquiring, her eyes unremittingly following him as he started to pace up and down the length of the desk.

"You want to tell me where I can find them. That would make you my partner in crime." He paused. "Trading their lives for yours, that's even shockingly unethical for you, Freddie." He stopped for a second, pretending to think about her suggestion and then added amused, "Maybe I'll just cut out your tongue. It serves the purpose equally."

"You came here to kill everyone who survived you so far, so you and Dr. Lecter could continue your life as murder husbands, didn't you? It would be a shame if you ended up in Dr. Blooms madhouse instead." She said. "And I know where you have to look to get what you wish for so desperately. Jack Crawford, Alana Bloom, Margot Verger," She paused dramatically. " _your wife_."

"My _ex wife_.", he corrected her harshly.

"Technically you're still married. Unless you and Hannibal Lecter held a wedding in the meantime of course."

Will had to press his lips together to not remind her that she was the one who was never afraid to label them as husbands in her articles, but he didn't want to dwelve into the topic. instead he shoved a piece of paper in her direction. "I might consider a deal if you write down for me where each fo them is to find."

She returned his glare sceptically, but eventually reached out for it and started to scribble something down with a pen. "I'm the only one who knows all their traps, you will need me alive.", she emphasized once more, her voice almost sounding desperate.

As she passed him the addresses her expression was more soft, as if someone would have turned on a switch. Their fingers touched briefly and Will pulled back his hand immediately. But her eyes lingered on him, almost sympathetic towards him.

„Tell me, is it what Dr. Bloom thinks, is there still the heroic Will Graham in there, the one that was ready to die with Hannibal Lecter?"

„Is she saying that?" He lifted an eyebrow.

"She believes you were corrupted by him, shouldn't be held responsible for your crimes.", she explained serious. "Personally, I think she hopes that she will be able to use you…. it might be your way out of all of this."

Will couldn't pictur a scenario where he got out unbruised enough to not be reminded of every touch and every damage that had been everyday. It was to late for him.

"Hope, recklessness, obsession…...all just nails to seal ones coffin."

"Of which of these are you guilty of?"

He skimmed over the addresses. Eventually, he would have to kill them all, but the decision with who to start the blood fest seemed crucial to him.

Putting the gun on the table, making sure it wasn't in Freddie's reach, Will got closer to her until he could feel how her muscles tense. Clearly, there was something missing about her obituary. What was a tattlecrime article without exclusive photos?

"You should be happy, Freddie, all your predictions turned out to be true in the end. I'm a murderer and Hannibal Lecter is what you called my _murder husband._ I lived up to your expectations, wouldn't you say?…" Coming closer he drew the knife from his pocket. "…. was being right and never being quiet about it, worth it?"

With one hand he lifted up her chin, his cunning smile meeting her aghast expression. For a moment he had been hesitating, considering mercy, but this stubborn look in her pupils reminded him how much he wanted to see her suffer.

Unnoticed by her the knife in his hand wandered down her stomach. He held the gaze and drove the it into her flesh, watching her crumble in pain. Finally he felt like could breath freely again, tasting the bitter sweet air properly.

Quiet gasps escaped Freddie's mouth as he pulled the knife up, ripping through the muscels and cutting open her intestines. The sharp blade severed the tissue without any effort, but Will made sure to drag it slowly.

He didn't dare to blink, following every muscle that was jerking in tormented pain with his eyes, the enjoyment in them blatant. At the same time his fingertips wandered over her face, giving it a sense of false comfort as he pushed her mouth open and forced the knife inside.  
Freddie was protesting more actively this time, trying to defend herself. But her screams and the movement of her jaw only caused blood to spill out of it. Will shook his head, denying her any mercy.

Ruthless he pushed down the tongue with two fingers, while letting her bite into his fist and had finally free sight to cut into it. He made the incision at the end of the muscle, more sawing than cutting through it.

Freddie didn't try to get him off her anymore, all she offered as a defense was an intense scream from the bottom of her throat, full of pain and rage.

With the scream the breath faded and Will waited to leave her body until he was sure their was no life left in it. Together with her lowering heart rate the ecstasy he had felt faded as well, leaving him eager to spill more blood.

Before he stuffed the piece of paper in his pocket, Will took a photo of the mutilated body and added it to the article. With one last glimpse to the screen he set it to be published in an hour and closed the laptop.

* * *

Jack didn't waste any time when the newest tattlecrime article popped up on the screen of his phone. He briefly skimmed through the text, his eyes constantly switching back to the photo that depicted Freddie Lounds' mutilated body in gory detail.

He didn't know if Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham both were behind the murder, but he knew immediately what to do. There still remained the possibility that it was just part of their cruel game to show off a body to keep him alert, without having any intend of coming for anyone else this time. However, in the long run each of the ones they had laid eyes on would drop dead, maybe one at a time. And in the meantime other meat would be served at Hannibal Lecters table.  
Confrontation seemed to be the only solution that could put a halt to the bloody trail the couple left.

Thurmont was in nearest reach of the places he suspected them to go next, and Jack hoped to arrive there before the FBI or other enemy of Hannibal. After all the time dreaming of revenge, the moment had finally come. It was his one chance to kill Hannibal, and the price he would have to pay wouldn't matter if he succeeded.

He drew his handgun from the drawer – it was always loaded and ready to shoot with. If it would go down like the last time, his bare hands and the strength in them would be enough, but he didn't want to leave any possibility for losing.

It was about a two hour ride to Thurmont, Virginia. The only reason he was in possession of Molly Graham's address, was that he had never left her out of sight, always aware what role she was playing in the cat and mouse game between Hannibal and Will and him. She never would have handed it out voluntarily, since she hadn't had a word with him after she had vented her anger as the news of Will's death had come in.

Jack often asked himself how Molly had dealt with finding out month later that her husband in fact was very alive and yet would never return to her as the man she had known and loved. If he was too late there maybe would be a reunion tonight. He drove faster now.

* * *

He parked the car right in front of the house – no time for hiding the fact that he was here. When he noticed that there was no car in front of the house, his heart sank. If Hannibal and Will weren't here, the only other place he could imagine them to have chosen as a target was Alana's residence.

The thought of the danger she might be in left him cold. He did not regret his decision to come here for a second. After all Alana and Margot had survived Hannibal before and would know what tactics to use. Maybe Alana would be lucky and kill him, have her own revenge. And if she died doing so she had at least an end to the atrocity of a life in fear.

Molly, however, he felt like he owed something. In the mess of revenge and fear and guilt, she remained an innocent party.

Despite signs of anyone's presence missing on the outside, Jack discovered a glimmer of light in one of the windows and quickly got out of the car, drawing the gun as he hurried towards the house.

All the sudden it reminded him of where everything had started. The scene in front of the Hobbs house he had recreated in his mind so many times based on what Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter had reported, was clear in his mind and as he approached the entrance door he almost expected Molly to be pushed of it with a cut throat at any moment.

Like Jack had feared, the door wasn't locked and he could easily enter. Inside there was no noise that got through to his ears and he was holding his breath. He suddenly felt like all the years of training in the FBI now weren't to use to him, all that had remained were blank rage and the desire for justice.

The wooden floor barley creaked as he moved through the living room to the dark corridor. For a moment he considered turning on the light, but it would give away the element of surprise he still hoped to have on his side.

As he went further light was gleaming from the crack in the door to his left and without further hesitation Jack pushed it open. His grip around the gun firmed as he starred at what he had spend not enough time with thinking about facing ever again.

The man across from him turned around, pieces of paper he had recovered from the desk behind him, falling to the floor. He had changed without doubt: the curls seemed wilder and darker now and the skin had a bronzed tone, but what made Will Graham so distinct from what Jack remembered him like, was the look in his eyes.

"Jack." The words escaped the mans lips toneless.

Jack struggled to keep his composure. Hannibal Lecter was what he was prepared for, not this.

The stranger sighed. "There is no one for you to save here. Molly was gone before I arrived…." There was not a hint of contempt in his voice, he sounded like he was talking to a friend.

"Then my only task will be to do justice." He said, not giving up his harsh mask. "Where is Hannibal?"

Will made a step forward, careful and almost as elegant as Hannibal moved. "What do you want revenge for, Jack? Weren't we even when I proposed as a bait and me and Hannibal killed Francis Dolarhyde?"

"I want revenge for this." _This_ was the only thing he could call the man across from him. There were no words that could repair what had been done. "Both our efforts for seeking justice have been shattered on the floor. I tried to gather the pieces, you willingly went along with Hannibal."

There was a certain sadness in Will's expression, a glimmer of insecurity.

"There is nothing to be sorry for, Jack, nothing anyone needs to pay for. But apparently we could not evade the feelings we have to deal with, otherwise neither me nor you would be here." Another step closer. Jacks finger remained calm on the trigger.

He had to ask, he had to be sure, that this wasn't Will Graham anymore.

"You would have killed your own family."

Will cut him off. "And you would have let it happen in order to catch Hannibal and me. No sacrifices too big for justice."

Jack had known it, had been confronted with it from all angles, but to hear confirmation from Will Graham's mouth made it a whole lot worse. And yet he felt his arms getting heavier under the weigh of the gun.

"Whatever trap you and him have laid out, I'm not letting you get away."

"I'm alone." Will shook his head. He hadn't stopped to come closer and Jacks finger on the trigger was left by all its strength. Now a meter was left between them, giving Jack a detailed sight on all the scars in the man's face. "But you're starting to realize that killing me instead might be just as satisfying as having your revenge on him. I'm a creation of his and of you, that's how you view me."

One last step and the earsplitting sound of a shot tore through the silence.


	10. Chapter 10

The ringing in his ears catapulted him into state where he blended out here and now completely. His whole body was shaking and yet so calm as he closed his eyes and relieved what had happened only seconds ago.

 _Jack Crawford was not supposed to die here.  
I don't want to encounter him here, and he wants to see Hannibal instead of me. I'm facing a former friend, someone who betrayed me, but also someone I avoided calling my enemy. His death has to be quick. I can't bare to see him suffer like Freddie Lounds.  
He is just as afraid of killing me as I am and that is where I use his weakness to my advantage.  
_ _But he doesn't stop me from coming closer and winding the gun out of his hand with one well-aimed move. In this moment he seems paralysed. The bullet pierces his aorta and he bleeds out within minutes. Jack Crawford dies looking me in the eyes.  
_ _This is my design._

Reality found its way back to him through the ringing in his ears. He now realized that it was over, that Jack Crawford was dead and he lived.  
But it felt so much different than killing Freddie Lounds, not as relieving. The act, it seemed to Will, required a certain degree of alienation and he in fact had not been part of Jack's world for a long time now.  
Only now when the blood was spreading on the floor beneath him, his eyes opened to the realization that this was the manifestation of his transformation. He had been shaped by Hannibal and his own mind until Jack Crawford had barley recognized him.

And then he finally looked up and into the eyes of Alana Bloom. She was alone, but in the background Will could here noises. Her fingers enclosed a handgun firmly without trembling and it was pointed in his direction.

And for a split second it crossed his mind to shoot her only to take a bullet in return. He could see himself bleeding of the floor, the sounds and visions slowly blurring until his heart stopped beating. It was the possibility he had taken into account when he had decided to come back. Had it ever been his main aim to save himself?  
The grip around the weapon tightened, but before he could give it a second thought, FBI agents and swat team members emerged behind Alana and entered the small room, pushing Alana out of the way. There was no question she was not supposed to be here.

"drop the gun.", One of the agents' deep voice ordered, but to Will it seemed as if the words were coming from far away. He had to force himself to take action.  
With a dull sound the weapon hit the floor and Will slowly raised his hands, knowing that resistance was senseless. Under the shouted orders of the man he got on his knees the hands above his head, letting the agents handcuff him before tugging him on his feet again.

He let his head drop, trying to shut down all the sensations, while he was dragged down the corridor, outside, where the cold air hit him like ice water on a hot summer day. The night was illuminated by the lights of police cars all over the place and he became more and more aware of the fact that he could have been spared this, if it hadn't been for the thoughtless boldness that drove him to give them the hints that had led them to Molly's house. He should have already been gone, slipping through the hands of the authorities instead of running into them.

* * *

He thought about Alana the entire ride, how she had stood their starring at him, both shock and coldness in her eyes. The Agents had been there just seconds later, but for some reason she had been there first, a gun in her hands.  
Probably she had been one of the first people to be aware of the murder of Freddie Lounds. And after such a cruel act pointing to him and Hannibal so blatantly she wouldn't have sat and waited for the FBI, of course not. Like Jack she had took action on her own.  
But Will couldn't let go of the question how long she had been watching him there, how long she had held back. He remembered Freddie's words about Alana and he wondered if maybe she had come there with the intend of saving him from being shot, no matter what it would cost.

The final destination was the Baltimore State Hospital For The Criminally Insane.  
This time he was not lead to one of the cells he had spend his incarceration in the last time, but instead to the room behind plexiglass that had been Hannibal's home for three years.

Will did not ask questions, just obeyed the orders. Without asking he knew that the only reasonable explanation he had been brought to this cell, was that all of this was under Alana's direction.

The doors shut close behind him, and finally after days he found himself surrounded by silence.

Almost everything had remained the way he remembered it: The clean plexiglass, the books in their shelves, even Hannibal's drawings on the table where waiting for its resident to return. Alana must have really hoped to put the cell to use again.  
Carefully he let his fingers glide over the back of the books. Maybe this would become his home now, maybe he would become what Hannibal once was. That's what he felt like at least.  
His actions of the last hours hadn't been what he had intended them to be, just and preventive, instead he had let go and engaged in a game played only for the sake of pleasure. Like Hannibal one of the paths he had started to pursue was solely for his amusement.

But he didn't feel too uncomfortable in his new skin actually, it had adjusted itself to him carefully until it was perfectly fitting. Despite the unfortunate situation he found himself in, Will had to admit that a part of him enjoyed this, that a smirk fought to get to the surface when he thought about Hannibal reading about his arrest. In a way the other man had unleashed the chain of events that had lead him here, had urged him to return and to find closure. All along he had hoped that Will would hunt with him, had tried to persuade him in so many ways. And now he had finally given it to him. But Hannibal had wanted to end together what they had started with Bedelia Du Maurier and now Will had changed the rules as he pleased.

Until now he hadn't really been aware that there was frustration about Hannibal's manipulation buried in him, but in this moment the picture of the other man's unsatisfied with the outcome of his plan pleased him. It seemed like a deserved reckoning to Will.

„Will," The words broke through slowly to him as Alana emerged from the shadows. Something about her expression was deeply disturbed, but the tensed muscles of her jaw tried to conceal it. "I need to talk to you."

"Nothing prohibits you from it. This facillity and much more than it appear to be under your control, Alana. Otherwise we wouldn't have crossed paths in Molly's house." He said reluctantly while coming closer to the glass that separated the two of them. "You had the chance to make me stop but you couldn't bring yourself to shoot me..."

"It was never my intention to kill you, Will."

Something in her expression told him that this wasn't the entire truth. He could not imagine that under the pressure of the last month, Alana's mere concern had been to save him. And yet she needed him, because Hannibal was still not where she wanted him to be. Jack seemed to be not more than a casualty. Time and fear, without doubt had changed her.

"And now you want to talk about how it could come that far, how I could ever get so involved with Hannibal Lecter." He didn't hide the bitter contempt in his voice, willing to make it as hard for Alana as possible. The only thing of interest about the conversation was the question how she would try to influence him.

"The paths you took aren't a labyrinth to me."

She was showing him all the compassion possible, with a soft but serious voice and a saddened frown.

„You want to understand, after all the trouble I've cost you?"

His tone was sarcastic, but the question behind it was frank.

„With cautiousness. I'm aware of your active participation in more than one murder within the time you were on the run with Hannibal. But he coerced you to do these things, spun a web of lies around you." Her long steps were coming closer to the barrier between them and through it she scrutinized him as if he was a wounded animal, whichs suffering could only be eased by her words. "All the love he gave you was nothing more than means to manipulation."

„Oh, now you're the one manipulating me, Alana." his face was so close to the glass that his breath on it was blocking his view. „You don't see me as an innocent man, that you want to protect from the evils of this world."

„Certainly not, no." She confessed without losing any confidence. "But you are not what he is, Will."

„How can you be so sure?" There was no point in giving her hope.„We always try to separate ourselves from people who do evil by calling them monsters. We don't want to believe that we belong to the same species and that we all would be capable of the same atrocities. We don't want to accept that we are not that different..."

Holding her breath Alana lowered her eyes, as if she was scared he would see something in them that confirmed his assumption, then she collected herself. But for that one moment Will believed to detect her confirmation her admission of guilt.

Will took a step back almost ashamed of how insistent his voice had become, while he had almost pressed himself against the glass.

"You really did embrace the worst of him..."

„No one can be fully aware of another human being unless we love them." He said remembering the dream suddenly and tilted his head, just to be met with grief and confusion in her eyes. Her narrowed brows, the tightened lips, it spoke volumes about as how mad and depraved she had to view him at this moment. And he felt mad; as if the excitement the events of the last hours had granted him was not ending, but pushing him further and further into madness until his mind would crumble under the weight.

Alana had taken a few steps back and this time she addressed him in a more plain manner."So far you haven't asked me what your future holds for you."

"It's in our hands, I suppose. I'm sure you will tell it to me now, suggesting a deal to me. Just admit that the only reason for showing me sympathy is that you want me to help you catch Hannibal."

"I have spend the last year to built connections with anyone I considered useful. Now it could benefit you as well, Will. The only condition of course would be that you share your knowledge about Hannibal Lecter with me."  
For a moment they locked eyes, and the provoking little smile on Wills lips faded and was replaced by a serious expression.

"I came alone. The fish you caught isn't that big after all." His voice sounded bitter as he turned around to study the book collection again. This time he didn't have eyes for the titles and their meaning, but only stared at them blindly, waiting for Alana to finally leave. But there were no determined steps, no closing of the door, just her voice.

"Why did you come back?"

He sighted and let her wait for the answer, while he moved to the other side of the shelve. "The only reason I'm here is that apparently I was not done and you and Jack were neither. I never wanted to return and end what Hannibal has started, but what we desire isn't always what we need. And I needed closure."

"Hannibal convinced you that you would find it here…." She reminded him ruthlessly. Then she took a deep breath and when she spoke again he could hear the fear of his answer in her voice. "Would I have been your next target, would you have done what Hannibal promised to do?"

Even Will was afraid of the question, he had let the answer hover in the air until he would be forced to make the decision. "if anything, on my hands your death would have been merciful. Hannibal would be ruthless with Margot and your son, I would have sparred you all the pain."

"He would not have approved of that. And that is the only reason you came back." She pondered, her eyes knowing. "If Your intention really is to spare me the pain, you make sure that Hannibal never sees the light of day again."

As he didn't answer her, Alana let out a sigh. "Despite everything you still are codependent of one another. If you play my bait, I will reward you and make use of all the control that I have. I might allow the two of you privileges such as sharing a cell."

Will heard the creaking of the door, but before it could shut close Alana stopped one more time and said. "think about it, Will."

* * *

Will did think about it. Him and Hannibal together and this world save from them…..Giving in to this temptation was a form of betrayal that Hannibal provoked.

He couldn't sleep the whole night. Awake he had laid on the mattress, his thoughts circling and falling into an abyss without any prospect of rescue and forcing him to come to a hopeless conclusion: He deserved to be in here, he deserved to feel the tugging pain of being so far away from anything that had grown familiar in the last year.

He had killed Jack, but had he found closure? There was little left of the excitement and empowerment he had felt before. His life was supposed to go on after he had cut out the past, but now he found himself in Hannibal's cage instead of his arms. And just like from the thought of Hannibal's frustration about him not returning, Will drew both regret and bitter gratification from it.

His mind was like a flower that only flourished under the right care, with enough sun, but was rotting from the inside if any of these conditions were denied. Here in Hannibal's cell the sun only touched upon him lightly.

Their was no chance of ever having a life in freedom with the man again. No matter where he would go, he would always be followed by eyes that waited to see the Hannibal and then to tear him away from Will forever.

* * *

"Give me a few more days."

The sun hadn't even risen yet and Alana was laying in her bed with only the lamp on the nightstand turned on. On the phone was Margot, keeping her from falling asleep again.

"Be careful. He has been under Hannibal's influence for so long now...I don't think you can trust him" Margot sounded worried.

"I have to to some degree. If Hannibal is so embedded in his mind, Will must have found a way into his head as well." Heading to the bathroom, her limbs still tired and heavy, she asked, "Have you increased the safety precautions, Margot? I don't think Hannibal could know….but…."

she was more concerned about him finding the residence than she admitted.

"Everything is fine here. He won't find us, Alana. If he is out there to get Will back, you are the one endangered in Baltimore.", the other woman reminded her with a soft voice.

Alana sighed."It is better this way. You know I can't come home now. It might just lead him to you."

* * *

She arrived early at the BSHFTCI, before the night staff had finished their shift.  
The first encounter with Will Graham had motivated Alana to prepare herself much more for their second conversation. However, his dismissing behavior had also disappointed her. She had been ready to see a changed man, but she had not been ready to be confronted with the fact that he had become quite manipulative and cunning.  
Again and again she had asked her self if she would have made the same choices, if she hadn't held onto that small grain of hope that she would still save Will from himself. Would she have sacrifised Jack if she would been only half as sure that Will might be the solution to all of her problems? On the other hand Jack would have done the same to her, had already attempted it.  
Now she had to make the best out of the situation. The chances that Will would play along in her plans didn't seem very high at the moment, but she would have to try her best to get him on her side.

If she was lucky she maybe wouldn't need his cooperation, the mere news that he had been caught could lure Hannibal here, if their relationship was what Alana thought it was. The news of Will Graham's arrest had already made headlines yesterday, it had to be impossible to not pay attention to.

Alana had scheduled another "therapy session" with him in an hour, before the agents of the FBI could come in to question him this afternoon. If talking wouldn't bear any fruits she might have to give him into police custody and hope for the best. It was supposed to be a last resort, but it looked like it wasn't likely that she would have to fall back on such a scenario, as risky as it was. One misplaced step and she would be dead.

She was on her way out of the office when the phone rang. It was Margot's number. Sighting Alana picked up the phone to tell her to call later, her negotiations with Will couldn't wait.

"Margot? I can't -" She started, trying to not appear too unfriendly, but swallowed down her words when she heard only heavy breathing on the other end of the line.

She forgot instantly everything she wanted to convince Will of.

"Alana. I believe you have what does not belong to you…. and yet you want to make use of Will. I allowed myself the same move.", Hannibal's calm voice uttered. "Even though you have refused to shut your eyes, like I told you to in my kitchen, you have not considered that I would not wait until my appearance would feel comfortable for you."

So he knew Will was under her care, and he had seen through her plan to make use of it. Her dream to hope had just become a nightmare.

"Have you-"

"There would be no point in calling then." He cut her off and then left her waiting, pausing for a moment. "Your wife and son are both alive and there are ways for you to assure it remains that way."

She was pressing the phone against her ear as if she would risk missing something important if she loosened the grip.

"You want Will in exchange?"

"Only if their lives mean anything to you, Alana." He teased her. "I give you my word that I will spare your family if you will bring Will to your residence within the next three hours."

His tone was sneering, exposing the gratification he drew from her despair, but under it Alana could detect how strained Hannibal was. "Come alone and wait a mile from your home until I let them go. You'll have to give me a few moments alone with Will."

She nodded mindlessly, almost forgetting that he couldn't see her.

"Will you ever come back after that?" Her voice was trembling. She felt to petrified for any other emotion to break through to the surface other that fear.

"I offer to spare your family, Alana. But you, you can't escape me." There was silence for a moment and she knew that he meant it, that this was the promise he would never take back. "Don't be late.", were the last words whispered before he hung up, leaving Alana listening to her own heartbeat.

* * *

The color faded from his cheeks when Alana brought him the news.

"….I'll have to get you out of here before anyone notices."

She had surprised him while he was still in his bed and now he wished the cushion he sank back into would swallow him whole. Every attempt to distance himself from the man, brought him another inch closer to him, no matter how high the barrier between them was.

"tell him to leave. Tell him to leave without me.", he uttered, his voice trembling.

"You know I can't.", she replied. "You're my only hope."

The game was over, and now Hannibal was risking getting caught because of him. Now Will was fully aware of the magnitude of his actions and it took away all the gratification he had felt before.

If everything would tumble, it would tumble because of him. None of this was supposed to happen. Hannibal was supposed to be in Argentina and he himself was supposed to rot here if he had to.

"I this a trick? Are you faking my escape in the hope he will be lured by it?"

How badly he hoped it was nothing more than that.

"No. you can easily assure yourself of that." With a gesture to the phone she had brought with her she looked at him inquiring and he nodded slowly, not sure if he really was prepared for this.

When he raised the phone to his ear there was Hannibal's voice at the other end of the line, velvet and soft, like in his memory.

"Is this your next move in the chess game? They take someone from you, you take someone from them.", was the first thing that escaped his mouth.

"The prospect of checkmating the enemy is much closer this time around, Will."

He had closed his eyes, imagining to be somewhere else.

"What if one of your chessman refused to obey?" The words were hard to get over his lips, but he felt like it was the only right thing to say. Hannibal shouldn't have to rot with him here, he wanted him free.

"You finally became the killer I always wanted you to be, Will. How could I let you drown in your own madness now?" For a split second he believed to notice surprise in Hannibal's voice, not irritation necessarily. "If you refuse there will be no chance for Alana's family and nothing will hold her back from coming for me anymore. Every scenario brings us back together. one is just more favorable than the other..."

Letting the words sink in he hung up.

Alana had entered the cell, the handcuffs in her hands ready to use as if he had already agreed to playing his part in the plan.  
Under her expecting eyes he turned around and let her cuff his wrists. "What an opportunity to apprehend Hannibal…..Why would you let it slip? There is no chance you believe I will be the factor that stops him from ever killing again."

"I want to save the world from the two of you, I really do. But everything has its price and in this case I'm not ready to pay it." She let his wrists go and he turned around looking her directly into the eyes. Even though the lack of distance between them held something dangerous, none of them stepped back. "I'm not giving you up, Will. I know that you can at least make sure that the chance that he leaves my family alive becomes a promise."

Will scrutinized her and this time found her words to be honest and sober. She seemed to have dropped any illusions about him being the hero.

"Then sacrifice your desire for revenge forever." Alana led him through the open door of the cell. "Pay the price for the life of Margot and your son, Alana. Lie to the FBI. Convince them Hannibal and me have not survived. These are my conditions if you want me to persuade Hannibal to never come back again."


	11. Chapter 11

The entire ride none of them exchanged a word about what was going through their heads. However, Will noticed the wary glares Alana shot him once in a while. He understood her distrust, only a few hours ago she would have had a reason for it. And equally he could not be sure if he could trust Alana's promise or if she would take advantage of his desire for what she had offered him. Only the fact that none of them had another choice remained, no matter what conclusion each of them drew.

The clock was approaching 7:15 am when they suddenly stopped in the middle of nowhere. Will pondered if he had been here before, but it was probably all looking the same to him now. They were surrounded by fields and green, not one soul in sight. Obviously Alana had picked an isolated place to settle, yet not far away enough for Hannibal not to find her. Probably a place where that wasn't the case didn't exist in this world.

"He asked me to wait here. It's not more than a mile to my house." She explained when he looked at her inquiringly. "Follow the road, you will see tit as soon as you get out of the forest."

He noodled. In front of him laid fields and in the distance trees interrupted the plainness of the landscape. Before he got out of the car he hesitated for a moment.

"I Will keep my word if you keep yours." One more time he locked eyes with her and then walked off without looking back again.

His steps carried him ahead faster than he had expected and with every breath he became more and more aware of his freedom. Only last night he had been ready to give it up and now the feeling of power overwhelmed him. But he knew how endangered this freedom was if he would fail to persuade Hannibal.

When he finally reached the woods, Will felt even more secure in his isolation. As he looked back he could barely see more than a dark spot where he suspected the car. The residence couldn't be far anymore. He assumed that as soon as he would get out of the small piece of forest, the house would rise in front of him.

Inhaling the cold air, in him bloomed hope for a future, even though it had an undeniably bitter taste to it. Alana had given him the chance to find another solution, to depart with Hannibal this day. They were vanish from the face of Virginia as if they'd never left a footprint on it. Their would be no shadows from his past lurking in his dreams anymore. It would be all he desired.

Will thought about how to introduce Hannibal to the bargain he had made with Alana, a bargain that required him to not only give up his hunt, but also admit to Will's victory. The development in the relationship between them would be put to its test. The teacup would either shatter on the floor or the scene would rewind and it would set itself back together immediately. Sacrifices were necessary for their love, and Hannibal loved him; Will didn't doubt it for a second.

Behind him he heard the sound of a car. It was still far away but coming closer relentlessly. With an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach Will turned around, almost expecting Alana. The vehicle was coming from the same direction as he did, but soon he coud tell that the shape did not match the one of Alana's car.  
Hoping that he could not be seen from the distance, Will decided to act upon his instinct and to hurry to leave the road, dissappearing the woods. Under these circumstances he didn't want to take the risk of someone recognizing him.

It was cold and wet and branches kept hitting him as he was making his way deeper into the undergrowth. He waited for the car to pass by, but the sound of the closer coming motor suddenly stopped instead, and seconds later a door was closed shut. Carefully listening Will froze and held his breath, his eyes flashing from corner to corner, scanning the environment for a way out.

Only when the branches were breaking under their feet, Will noticed that two people had left the road and were not somewhere between the trees. Fear of the unknown tightened his airways.  
Before he could let more precious time pass by, he started to run. At this point he had given up the hope that they didn't know where he was hiding. Without doubt the two figures were walking into his direction. From so far away he could not see their faces, nor if anyone else was hiding in the car, but he had the instinctive feeling that it was better to remain blind in that regard and that he should put all his energy into getting as far away from them as possible. Even now his priority remained to make it to the residence before it was too late, before any chance of a deal had died.

The figures hunting him had picked up a faster pace now as well, and Will could hear himself gasping for air as the distance between him and them was getting smaller and smaller. Over and over again he looked over his shoulder, trying to think of a way to get rid of them.

But his run came to an sudden halt as his shoe got caught in a root. In the next moment he found himself lying face down in the mud, a man and a woman looking down on him. Both were tall and athletic, but neither of them seemed familiar.

Will tried to get up and to crawl away from them, an attempt that was immediately stopped. Without any tenderness he was lifted up and dragged over roots and leaves, back to the street.

Winding himself and protesting, he tried to gain control, but none of it got him any further. Will could feel that something in him was falling apart, that his strength was leaving him.

He heard another car door closing and tried to turn his head to see what was happening. In this moment his head was smashed against something hard on the floor and his vision started to blur.

* * *

Impatience was becoming an itch for Hannibal as the clock narrowed to 8 Am. There remained fifteen minutes for Will to show his face at the gate and the ride from Baltimore to Alana's new home usually only took about two hours. Yet there was no sign of the man when he pushed the curtains apart to look outside on the wide garden and the endless scenery beyond it.

Hannibal knew either Will would wait at the gate in the next minutes or a swat team would surround the residence silently. Either his judgment of the situation would prove to be infallible or his mistakes would bite him in the back. Such a undesireable scenario required Alana to have grown cold enough to sacrifice her family, because she knew he would no hestitate a second to take their lives. Either that or Will denied him his victory.

Behind him, in the center of the living room, he had tied up his hostages. They were sitting across from each other at the dinning table, unable to move due to the drug running through their veins.

Margot shot him a glare each time he dared to look at them, and he knew that rage was hiding her fear. The boy in comparison always returned his stare with innocence as well as curiosity in his eyes. What an intersting pciture this family offered...

He left the room without a word and headed to Alana Bloom's office. With the gut feeling he had, he could not let the events unfold making sure he always remained the one in control. And now Alana had to be reminded of the price she was paying if she intended to break the rules of their deal.

The office was furnished marvelously, yet the atmosphere was cold and lifeless. Hannibal had to search a few drawers until he finally held the black case he had hoped to find here in his hands. Without losing any more time he hurried to the kitchhen and put it on the table. The clock was relentlessly approaching 8 Am, there was no time to be wasted.

Returning to Margot and her son, he approached her from behind and started to cut the rope that bound her to the chair. The blade was sharp and it didn't take too much effort to free her. Gently he lifted her up.

"Where are you taking me?" Margot's voice was trembling, but she tried to remain as calm as possible. When Hannibal looked up he knew why. The boy at the other end of the table was crying silently, tears streaming down his face, while his lips remained pressed together.

He briefly smiled at him. "If you behave, your mother will be back again in no time at all."

With fast steps he carried her paralyzed body through the few meters of corridor to the kitchen. "The drug you are under will allow me to do this without you feeling any pain at all, Margot.", Hannibal explained walking through the room, leaving time for her to take notice of the surgical instruments he had spread out on one of the small tables.

"Will it kill me?"

Slowly he laid her down on the table and closed the door.

"Whether you die or not will depend on how much your wife values your life." Hannibal sighted, while clinically cutting apart her shirt. "Solely time will be after you. The same concept life promises us all."

A single tear ran down her cheek. It had to evoke some memories that she could only watch while someone else would cut her apart.

Without hesitation Hannibal picked up one of the scalpels from the case he had found in Alana's office. It had been a while since his murders had required him to use a weapon with which he could work precisely. With inviting Will into his world violence had become more sensual and at the same time more rough and brutal.

The blade cut through the skin easily. A long, red line from where her rips ended down to the belly button now interrupted the seamlessness of her lightly tanned skin.

Satisfied Hannibal put away the scalpel and reached into his pocked to take out Margot's phone. It was time to share the seriousness of her situation with Alana.

"Alana." He didn't wait for her to answer. "Have you simply forgotten the rules of our agreement or is this delay far more malicious in nature?"

The woman replied in a toneless voice. "what do you mean by that?" The despair behind it didn't slip past his attention, but he could not draw gratification from it, being depended on her mercy.

"Will is not here."

His hand glided into the opening in Margot's stomach. Closing his eyes Hannibal sensed the texture of each organ.

"I did exactly what you told me to do. Will was on his own the last bit.", she assured him.

Her words let his heart sink. He was good at detecting lies, and this wasn't one. He had to face the reality that it maybe was Will's conscious decision to not grant him the satisfaction. Maybe this was the mans punishment for his manipulation.

Hannibal was not ignorant enough to deny that Will had proven to be more than capable and willing to take the game Hannibal had started one step further. How far was the only question of importance.  
What a cunning boy he was….

"Hannibal?!" Her alarmed tone brought him back to their conversation. The blood was pumping fast in Margot's arteries as he cupped the spleen and firmed his grip.

He took a deep breath. "I see myself forced to give you the benefit of doubt…." with a precised cut he parted the small red organ from the veins and let it fall into a bowl besides the table. Margot swallowed at the sound. "However, the change of circumstance doesn't change that you will be held responsible in the end. It might motivate you to know that your wife is currently undergoing surgery, Alana."

Regardless who was to blame for Will's absence, the outcome now depended on the choices Alana would make. He had to be careful and yet daring in making sure he remained the one in control.

"What have you done to her, Hannibal?"

"I'm taking one organ at a time. There will remain not more than a scar if you can fulfill your role in our bargain. Find Will."

He hung up well aware that she would not let the fate of her son and wife remain in his hands, if Will had disappeared. It was dangerous balance act for both of them. But it was the last chance he had at this point. What did he have to lose if everything was falling apart and Will was not returning to him?

* * *

 **I know I have not updated in a while, sorry for that. But I spend the entire time working on the ending, which means the final two chapters will be probably published tomorrow.**

 **Let me know your thought about the story so far and if you have any guesses who could have been after Will in that forest!**


	12. Chapter 12

Will got back to consciousness with dull pain at the back of his head when he was dragged out of the car. He was facing a flat house that seemed as unwelcome in the wide landscape like he was in the ruins of his old life.

The interior was furnished modern and in a way even pretentious, a few paintings from the last century decorating the white walls. Without any strength left to fight back Will let the two guards lead him through the living room and bring him down the stairs to the basement. He had not the slightest idea where he was, nor how long the ride from the forest to here had taken.

But With the two narrow cages at the back of the bright room, the basement looked everything else than inviting to him. Apparently his captor was very eager to make sure his stay wouldn't be of short duration. The thought that the second cage might be for Hannibal worried him and reinforced his bad gut feeling.

One of the cage doors was pushed open and Will was forced inside at the strong hands of the woman that he had already seen in the woods. Before the handcuffs around his wrists were taken off she put something around his left leg, that to him looked like a foot restraint.

He let it happen even though the idea of waiting here while the horrors unfolded repulsed him. Hannibal would be arrested while he was trapped here in a nameless basement, where he would never have the chance to give the man a sign of living. And yet he was forced to wait.  
The only light came from the small window under the ceiling, where the sun that reflected on the plain white walls gave him no indication if it was still morning or already midday. At some point he had lost track of time, no concept whether it was already too late or if there was still a point in his concern. Every minute drove him further into madness, made him painfully aware of his helplessness.

And then finally the metal door opened again and a man entered the room. He didn't seem to be in a hurry and dragged himself over to the cage slowly until Will could study his face in detail.

It was more of a collection of scars than a proper face."Frederick Chilton." Will swallowed down his surprise.

Instead of reacting Frederick just looked at him with his dull eyes, presumably serious, but Will couldn't be entirely sure, with the wide smile that never vanished from his face.

Ignoring all the questions that swirled around in his head in attempt to connect the new information, he said the only thing that seemed relevant to him. "You made a mistake, Frederick. Someone will die because you keep me here."

It made Will uncomfortable in his skin how the man was scrutinizing him while letting him wait for his answer. "You surely mean Alana Bloom and her wife."

Will frowned at the serenity with which the inarticulate words came through the lipless mouth.

"Yes.", he found himself confirming instead of expressing his confusion. "It would only take me one phone call to prevent it."

"You seem to be very concerned about their lives. More than about your own situation, wouldn't you say?" Something in his tone let a shiver run down his spine. "And I though," he continued sarcastic. "you might use Dr. Blooms despair as an opportunity to save yourself…."

"How do you know about Alana Bloom unfortunate situation?"; he finally asked.

In all his worrying about what he had left behind he had not thought of Frederick Chilton as a potential thread. The more shocking it was to be confronted with reality. And the man seemed to be involved heavily...

"My eyes and ears are everywhere Dr. Bloom is to find. Since I heard the first rumors about Hannibal Lecter and you having survived, I have observed every step Jack Crawford and Alana Bloom made. I learned all of their secrets."

"Now you would sacrifice them for the sake of catching me, for the sake of vengeance….. You have stored your secrets with theirs way too long in your head."

Frederick slowly moved around the cage, never letting Will out of his eyes.

"I would not call it a sacrifice. Dr. Bloom bears just as much guilt as you do, Mr. Graham. She let me run into the knife knowingly and now I will watch her burn for it.", he said bitterly and Will could feel his glare burning away the skin on his back. "I caught you, and triggered the chain of events.. If my assumptions are right, Hannibal has blackmailed Dr. Bloom to let you go, maybe threatened her to kill Margot Verger. If you never arrive they will pay for it."

The amused and determined undertone became more and more alarming to him.

"You want me to lead you to Hannibal Lecter next..."

"You're the one they hunt after, because who controls you controls Dr. Lecter."

Will forced himself to smile sourly. "That's an interesting theory, but I doubt that reality will live up to your expectation, Frederick."

He didn't know how much the man actually knew about him and Hannibal and if it was possible to trick him in that regard.

The man let his fingers disappear in his jacket and drew a cell phone from it. In the other hand he caught a glimpse of some sort of remote, about which Will had no good feeling "What did you say? One call might save them?"

He dialed a number and put the speakers on so Will could hear everything. After a while a voice broke the silence between them and Frederick's discontent was readable on his face when it became clear it had to be the mailbox.

It was Margot's voice. The man knew where Hannibal Lecter was to find.

"Dr. Lecter." he said bitter sweetly after the signal while he moved closer to the bars, almost giving Will the impression he would pass the phone on to him. "You might be wondering why Alana Bloom has not had the decency to comply with your orders. Well, she is not the only one who has an interest in catching Will Graham... but my motives are rather personal in nature…." He made a pause and from the corner of his eye Will saw how he pressed the remote. Horrible pain shook through Will's body and his eyes rolled back. The rest of the speech was drowned by a scream that seemed to shatter the air. „…...he is alive and more or less well, but I can't guarantee you he will still be in an hour. You can take his place, Dr. Lecter. Be there in time."

Now he knew what the restrain on his foot was supposed to do. Rage and pain had brought tears to his eyes and he was now holding onto the bars, partially to not break down and partially to stop himself from an attempt to attack him. He was still gasping when Frederick ended the phone call.

„He won't let you lure him into a trap.", Will pressed out between his teeth.

„We will see that." His serene tone drove him insane. „After all you were worth enough to him to take the risk of being arrested when he entered the territory of Alana Bloom."

Heavily breathing Will hissed, „Hannibal is going to kill you, Frederick. You are nothing more than a product of his manipulation."

"This is not about survival, Mr Graham. So there is nothing Hannibal Lecter could beat me with, no person to blackmail me to give you back to him. I will make him my marionette."

Will's grip around the metal bars so tight that his knuckles turned white. "Am I not enough of a trophy for your victory?"

"Don't be so disheartened, Will. Not yet." There was a certain madness reflecting in the psychiatrists eyes. "My nature as a psychiatrist forces me to attempt to understand your cruelty, to live it. In exchange you will have to suffer like I have suffered. I will remind you what you have induced with your reckless manipulation of the red dragon…. "

Will swallowed. "And we all have a role to play in your revenge. Hannibal Lecter, Alana Bloom, me...you want all of us to be reminded...", he said, trying his best to stay calm. "But Alana might get away if her case not handled carefully. You can only be sure that she is punished if you sent me to her residence.", he proposed insistent, searching Frederick's eyes for a response. But he just let out a dry laughter.

„I'm not interested in your bargains.", he hissed and in the next seconds the pain of an electroshock flooded Will again, emphasizing the words. "I'm way too interested in the dynamics of you and Dr. Lecter. When he comes to save you I will be able to put it to the test. Believe me, both of you will have to endure horrible pain."

Trembling Will watched him walk out. Pressing his lips together he waited until he heard the door closing shut. Slowly he sank onto the floor of his small cell while internally he collapsed endlessly. Warm tears started running down his face.

* * *

Alana felt numb. Every grain of hope she had had left now had faded completely, leaving her with nothing more than the tormenting sensation of her throat being to narrow to let any air into her lungs. Driving around, her eyes hunting after every movement, she had tensed up more and more until she couldn't even feel her own fingers gripping the steering wheel. And yet she had to come to the conclusion that Will had disappeared and did not want to be found by her.

He had betrayed her, he had betrayed Hannibal. And yet when she had watched him walk away to her house she had trusted Will. The forgiveness she offered him was too much of bold gift that relied on her confidence that she knew what Will Graham was. She had relied on the fact that she understood the twisted relationship between him and Hannibal, well aware that it had never been a simple one. What a foolish thing to do.

After her fruitless attempt to repair what had fallen apart the road had lead her to the _ice palace_ , which she had always believed to be so save. Now it was nothing more than walls of stone that could be climbed over easily. Without a sign of life in the yard, without a guard, the building's radiation was more cold than she had it ever perceived to be.

With her jaw trembling she started at the gate, wishing she could look through it and prepare herself for what would wait inside. Confrontation with Hannibal was the last resort she was forced to take in such an unfortunate chain of events. The knowledge that their was no chance of survival for her family if she confessed her actions to the FBI and let them storm the residence, left her with not more this measurement.

Getting out of the car she knew that her only chance was to offer herself in exchange for Margot and her son.

The SVU she shared with Margot was not in its place behind the gate, but she could see tire marks leading away from its usual parking spot. Unsure what excatly this would mean she entered the house and started to search room for room. All of them were empty. There seemed to be no sign of Will Graham or Hannibal Lecter lurking in corners to make an end to their game. But the relief that their seemed to be no danger for her anymore, set in only insidious and was interrupted by her distrust of such a fortunate turn.

She found Margot bleeding in the kitchen, with her organs finding their place in a metal bowl beside her resting head. The skin pale she resembled a corpse, but she was still breathing.

Like someone else had taken over her body, Alana dialed 911 and explained what was happening without actually thinking about her words. She had to blend the future out at the moment, because she lacked any idea if after now she would even have one. There was nothing she could do except for stooping the blood from seeping into Margot's abdominal cavity, the damage appeared to be too big.

When Alana wanted to put down the phone she noticed _o_ _ne new missed call_ on the display. Her mind already wandering away she let the message on the mailbox play.

Utter disbelieve and shock tore her awake when she recognized the inarticulate voice of Frederick Chilton. The puzzle set itself together. He had been watching her and Jack all along solely to catch the right moment to take advantage of her vulnerable position…... And he had taken Her family's death into account.

But she was prevented from acting upon her impulse when the paramedics arrived at the scene and took her with Margot and her son to the hospital.

Nobody guaranteed her that her wife would survive surgery and Alana waited. She waited for life or death to decide about what she would have to do.

* * *

The small hill with the trees provided a good overview over the glade in the woods. Hannibal had approached the scene from behind and now was able to watch two shadows dragging another figure out of a car. The man, he could easily identify as Will Graham, exhibited a stagnant gait, which he realized was due to the chains around his feet.

He kept hiding for a while to observe their behavior, to be sure nothing was kept hidden from him.

In any case he wanted the element of surprise on his side.

It was an interesting exchange Dr. Chilton had proposed there, him for Will. And unfortunately, despite his knowledge that Frederick's promises were nothing but flat out lies, it was a deal he could not resist. He had long given up the notion that he was not depended on Will Graham in a way. Now it had brought him here, risking his freedom for the man with a good prospect of losing it.

Nevertheless, it was not in his nature to surrender. It was a well planned trap Frederick had there, but Hannibal had seen through it as if it was glass, that yet was hard to break. He would never let Will go if he could apprehend both of them. If he just had wanted him, Frederick could have sneaked into Margot's residence to kill him there.

His interference impressed Hannibal and would have amused him in every other situation. Lined up beside Margot, Alana and Jack he had never stood out in a way that would predict such competence together with a fondness of torture. Under the lacerated skin seemed to slumber a mind twice as bent and tormented by what had happened to him.

Maybe even this scene was set up as a trap, but Hannibal saw no other possibility then to run into it. The thought of Will being not with him and instead enduring horrible pain was nothing his mind could bear. Now after they had come so close it seemed physically impossible to him to live without the man.

He made his way through the undergroth quiet like a cat to strike from behind. The neck of the first guard broke easily with a crunching sound and she fell to the floor like a marionette which's strings had been cut. His attack didn't go unnoticed and the guard to Will's right reacted immediately. With a strong blow the muscular man aimed for him and missed Hannibal's head by centimeters. A provocative smile came up his lips as he got right up again. He always welcomed a challenge.

The next fist struck him at the shoulder and with and angry grunt he stumbled back a few steps, just to get control again and to kick him into the stomach. The guard fell back, catching himself from falling by instinctively holding onto Will's arm. The shock when he realized his mistake, became readable in his face, delighting Hannibal.

Will grabbed the mans arm to pull him up and then shot forward like a viper, digging his teeth into the mans throat. The screaming and panting that escaped his mouth while blood splattered in all directions was like a melody in Hannibal's ears.

He was even more pleased when no one came to bring the situation under control as the guard collapsed on the grass. With a smile he looked at Will. Tiredly it was returned and they locked eyes. As Hannibal could see all the devastation in them he promised him in his head that everything would be over now. He had the urge to embrace him, to kiss him, but at a second thought instead bend down to release him from the handcuffs and chains. Every minute out here was still a risk.

The second he touched the cold metal Will's expression derailed and the twitching pain of an electroshock shot up Hannibal's arms. His eyes rolled back as he fell to the floor.

When his head turned up to the sky he was faced with a wide smile within the scarred face of Frederick Chilton. But he could not fight back when the man easily pulled him on his feet. Consciousness must have left him for a few minutes, because he found his arms strapped to his body by a straightjacket while he feet were in chains. The sensation of being restricted to such minimal movement caused an uncomfortable dejavu.

The words were inarticulate like had expected, when Frederick bend down and hissed, „I would have loved to tame you with your mask, but unfortunately Dr. Bloom holds it dearly to her heart."

The sharpness in his voice sparked amusement in Hannibal. It was amusement about the change and destruction he and Will had left behind. What his influence had resulted in was more than he had ever anticipated, even though he had to give Will credit for Frederick's development.

* * *

The basement that seemed to be the final destination was repulsive to every good taste. Plain white walls, which offered no delight to the mind where plastered with cheap metal lockers that matched the table with a single chair behind it in the center of the room. The only pieces that made it distinct were the gurney and the two narrow cages behind it, in one of which Frederick gestured him to go.

Once again Hannibal was trapped in a cage, torn away from freedom and separated from Will Graham. Chilton didn't grant him any comfort, not removing the straightjacket. The man was not foolish enough to trust the composed facade Hannibal had put on and did not rely on the bars to hold him back.

Will was brought after him, but did not as expected accompany him in the second cage, and instead was strapped down on the gurney. The position didn't allow him to make eye contact with Hannibal and hindered him from moving his arms and legs as well as his head.

Calmly Chilton took out a knife and let the polished blade slice Will's shirt in two. „Dr. Lecter.", he addressed Hannibal. "I have to ask you: were you merciful with Alana Bloom or have you punished her for her incompetence?"

Hannibal tilted his head and considered the question."Was the hope to cause mayhem the initial reason for Will's abduction?"

Before Frederick could loosen his expressionless grin to answer, Will remarked scoffing, "Dr. Chilton has found fault with all of us including her. He hoped you would make sure he has his revenge on her."

Hannibal couldn't bite back an amused smirk as Will shot Frederick a defiant glare, in his more than unfortunate position. Turning to Frederick he said, "Then you will be glad to hear that I sliced up her wife the same way Abel Gideon once did with you." The mans hand was twitching nervously and his eyes wandered from him to Will and back again.„May I know what the purpose of our apprehension is? The circumstances we find ourselves in hardly suggest that you are eager to turn us over to the authorities."

"I'm taking revenge for what I suffered at the hands of Francis Dolarhyde. What I lost of my body has been reconstructed, but my mind is not quiet rebuilt yet. I hoped a glimpse into the minds of those who are responsible might help it to heal. And you will look right back into my head."

The man had always been obsessed with Will Graham as well as with him, but never was granted the opportunity to examine the inside of their heads without being held back by a lens that distorted the picture. It must have been frustrating for Frederick that all his patients had ever done was mock him.

"Vengeance usually brings further destruction, not rehabilitation." Will said dismissive.

"After this endless seeming circle of manipulation and violence the knife was dropped and fell into your hands." Hannibal replied to Frederick, hiding the little smile that threatened to come to his lips. „you want to make use of it by trying to put Will and me into your state of mind. It is a natural reaction to feel an urge to force those who are accountable to empathize with you. But at the same time you would like to understand how it must feel to do such atrocities to others...To understand and to be understood."

Something scornful added to the smile that was his natural expression. "It is good that you understand your role in this Dr. Lecter. You both will feel my pain... But Is it even possible to traumatize you? I'm sure the answer is _Will Graham_ when it come to the question of how to cause you pain."

He turned on his heel and dedicated his attention to Will, picking up the knife he had put on the stand beside the gurney. Without warning he let it slide over the man's bare chest.

As he scrutinized Hannibal waiting for a reaction, the red line was crossed by a second one, and he could tell that this one was deeper by the uncomfortable sound that escaped Will's lips.

He watched with held back distaste.

"If your are as cold as many would claim, you won't have to suffer at all…...Only Will has to bear the consequences. We will see what how far I will have to go." The blade caressed Will's jawline and he held his breath. "View it as an experiment."

Frederick wanted to see his reaction, wanted to pride himself as the one who controlled him and Will. After all the years in BSHFTCI where all of his attempts of studying him had been dismissed, the man had to be delighted by being able to count such psychologically interesting exemplars to his collection.

"Animals are usually more interesting to study when they are in their natural environment. Every reaction in captivity is not honest to the animals nature.", he denied him a victory once again. Frederick ignored his dismissive tone and starred at him blindly.

"I can assure you that you will be in your _natural environment_ again soon enough. I'm just not sure if you will be still so comfortable then."


	13. Chapter 13

Frederick let them rot, unable to move for quiet a while and with time passing by the coldness crept up Hannibal's back. The room clearly wasn't heated.

"Did you come here with a plan to escape on your mind?" Will suddenly asked into the silence.

"Frederick already paved that way for us. Sooner or later the FBI will come to hear the message he left me at Alana's house. Not long and they will know where we are." Not deleting the message was a measurement he had only taken reluctantly.

"We will be behind bars again. No escape into freedom."

"But from torture.", Hannibal replied softly.

Was this what Will had intended all along, Hannibal's freedom, regardless of his own fate?

"Frederick is not a sadist like Mason Verger was. He is much more doing it out of a revenge driven delusion than for pleasure. Our influence played a role in his becoming, with pulling the right strings we might be able to attain a similar effect again." He sighted, trying to adjust his position by moving his upper body around. It was the same opportunity Hannibal saw arising when he looked at Frederick, but other than him Will didn't seem to pride himself with his power.

Hannibal closed his eyes, letting the plain basement disappear. His eyes were met by medieval paintings on the high walls and ceilings as he found himself in Normal Chapel.

Across from him he discovered Will in the Chapel, sitting on one of the chairs and smiling at him lightly. After a while of watching him he finally said. "I was impressed with your murder of Freddie Lounds, Will….and surprised with your decision to pay Molly and Walter a visit." He had to admit to himself that the feeling he had when he had read about Will's arrest in the house of his former family, had resembled relief. "You were cutting all the ties that connected you with this place. Except for Margot and Alana."

"They were your ties.", Will said, closing his eyes.

"And yet you wanted to cut them. At least you threatened to in your letter...But would you have slaughtered them like Bedelia and Ms. Lounds when I called you to come to me?"

The sun was falling through the high windows onto the mans face, taking away the tension in his jaw and almost letting it appear peaceful.

"I hoped to get more then just the thrill of killing out of your bargain. I altered the conditions." Will swallowed. "A promise to let them live and to never come back, in return our death in the minds of the public." When he continued his voice was trembling. "Is Margot really dead?"

"If Alana did what I anticipated she might have survived."

* * *

After what felt like endless peace with Hannibal the scene was interrupted by another electroshock that jerked through Will's body. He pressed his teeth together, trying to tolerate the pain without making a noise.

Frederick seemed to be in much more joyful mood now. Eagerly he paced through the room.

"I was thinking about what your natural environment would be exactly", he said in a serious tone and then fixated Will with his eyes. "I thought to myself how ironic it would be if I would feed you to Hannibal Lecter. As a method of therapy..."

The suggestion didn't even surprise him, considering the way Frederick had presented himself to him.

Frederick had turned away from the, opening one of the lockers. He drew a medical jar with a tube attached to it from the first shelve and put it on the stand beside the gurney.

At the sight of the content of the shelves Will asked himself how long he had planned to lock him and Hannibal here in his basement, how much of his time he had spend picturing a scenario like this.

„We both have been very fond of unorthodox methods." Hannibal intervened. "But who do you hope will benefit from this practice?"

Frederick took a step forward and now stood over Will. As he again weighted the knife in his palms a shiver ran down Will's spine. He was becoming aware that with such determination that Frederick exhibited, he maybe wouldn't get away without paying a certain price.

"You as well as me. I want to finally see that facade of yours crumbling, Dr. Lecter. Pain might very well be the key to it."

Will cleared his throat. "And what will you take away from it, Frederick?"

The knife was dangerously close to his face and Will tried to move his head away, but the strap held it in place. There was no way to escape, he realized when the cold metal touched the skin behind his ear.

"I want to understand." Frederick said, cutting his skin open. The blade sawed relentlessly into the cartilage of his ear, slowly separating it from his head.

"Stop.", it echoed from behind, but Frederick didn't pause his movement. Will closed his eyes and now only pain and the obnoxiously loud sound reminded him of what was happening. Every time the knife was moved up and down the burning became unbearable.

"Some cannibals insist that human flesh comes close to the taste of pork… what will you tell me does Will Graham taste like? Is he pork or more than that?" He put the bleeding ear on a plate, which he had prepared on the stand beside the gurney and walked out of Will' view with it.

"he is not the one to be fed, Dr. Chilton." He couldn't see Hannibal's face but the distaste in his voice could not be overheard. „Treatment always requires a certain commitment of the therapist. What you seek to understand can only be seen if you allow the subjects you observe to change you, to adjust your mind."

"How do you suggest I achieve that?" Now Frederick was the one mocking him.

But Will saw exactly where Hannibal wanted to lead the man."You have to cut out the parts of your past that do not belong to your transformed self anymore."

There was a long silence that followed in which all of the three waited for an answer.

"I'm supposed to feed myself to you, Mr Graham?", he finally asked, insecurity swinging in his tone. But he did not step back to look him in the eyes and kept his place between the cage and the gurney.

"cannibalism is about consumption and internalizing. You will inexorably become part of Will, forcing him to understand your pain. There is no possibility to get out of the walls you have built around your world alive. Isn't at least to be understood better than to be wasted?" Every one of Hannibal's words was carefully aimed, set up to bring the cogs in Frederick's confused and insane mind to start turning, "You and I know, Alana will come and with her the end of all our freedom, if not our death. This is the final day of revenge, Frederick."

"It was never my intention to survive this."

He had become serious as if he was taking into consideration what was proposed to him. Maybe it had lurked in the abyss he had found himself in all along. Slowly he walked back to Will and scrutinized him carefully, his eyes wandering from to top to bottom.

„It could end with closure for you or it does not end at all." Will added.

"What do you suggest Will Graham should eat?"

"Your liver. An organ that deals with everything toxic that enters our body. Quiet symbolic.", Hannibal eagerly suggested.

The man seemed to ponder for a second and Will believed to see delight in his eyes.

"You may take a part of my liver, Dr. Lecter in exchange for something."

Fear spread in his stomach insidiously as Frederick returned to the lockers and took a needle out of it. He wished he could catch a glimpse of Hannibal, assure himself that their would not be more bloodshed.

The needle plunged under his skin without warning, immediately sinking into a vein. "I have to ensure you will not take advantage of the situation and kill me prematurely, Dr. Lecter. Will's blood will be dripping his body drop by drop until I decide that it is enough." Blood started to make its way through the tube. Frederick turned the gurney around so he could finally see Hannibal, behind who's expressionless face slumbered tension. Now they had gotten what they had aimed for and it made him sick.

With a smooth gait Frederick moved around Hannibal's cage considering the tamed beast satisfied. Then he loosened the straightjacket, knowing he was forced to behave. "You will have to do exactly what I tell you."

While he moved the metal table with the instruments necessary for a surgery, in front of the bars, Hannibal freed himself from the restricting fabric and stretched out his fingers.

Will would not necessarily view Frederick's posture as eager when he laid down on the table, but is wasn't hesitant either. Enough to worry him.

It was bizarre picture, Frederick with bare stomach and Hannibal's calm hands reaching out of the cage, letting a needle glide into the skin.

Establishing eye contact with Will he explained,"The local anesthesia will allow you to witness everything and ensures me that you will still be able to stop Will from dying once I have stitched the wound back together."

"My live as well as Mr Graham's lie in your hands now." With these words Frederick let his head fall to the side.

Hannibal cut deep into the flesh, not far from the long scar Abel Gideon had left on him. This time it would be a final cut, one that would not have enough time to heal to a scar. And with his flesh rotting Frederick Chilton would finally find closure by departing from the tormenting pain and insanity of his reality.

Will felt like he was not in the same room as the two, it was a scene he was watching from far away. Hannibal's fingers work quickly and confident, but all he could really see was the blood all over his gloves. It had something hypnotizing to follow his movements in the silence that held so much danger.

Careful he tested if he could somehow loosen his ties, but they strapped him down ruthlessly without moving a bit.

"You will drink his blood and he will have the meat." Fredericks words echoed from far away and Will realized how weak he was starting to feel. His eyes wandered to the jar beside him, where his dark blood was relentlessly rising.

"Hannibal...", he uttered only to notice that his mouth was too dry to speak. But his words were not necessary, the man had already taken notice of his state and his quickly hands sunk back stomach to remove the part he had just cut out.

"You will have to hurry if you don't want any foul meat to be served.", Frederick mocked. The piece landed in the bowl that stood ready beside Frederick's head and Hannibal reached back inside to stop the bleeding.

Again and again Will's eyelids became too heavy and closed themselves. He had to take all his strength to keep them open. Tiredness and coldness took over his body with every second that went by and while the jar was getting fuller and fuller.

He had to have been drifting away, because as he opened up his heavy lids, Hannibal was just finishing the stitches. Breathing became harder. every time he filled his lungs with air he felt like less oxygen reached his brain. He might be just dying, but maybe that was just fine….

Before the picture blurred in front of his eyes there was a fast movement and then he was sucked into the inner world of his head.

* * *

Hannibal's worried face was hovering over him when his vision started to clear and Will realized that he could move his arms and legs again. Carefully examining the deep cuts on his chest the man had bent over him. His touch felt like a sanctuary in the endless burning.

"Stay with me, Will." he said gently as Will laid back his head again. The weakness was still laying like a heavy blanket over his consciousness, but he was feeling alive at least. Blood was streaming back into his veined from a drip and a few moments later a bandage was wrapped around his upper body, exercising pressure on the bleeding wounds. Not a long term solution, but Will knew that they had to leave this place as fast as possible.

Frederick was still laying on the metal table, but this eyes starred at him lifeless. A scalpel was sticking deep inside the side of his neck and as Will's eyes wandered up he saw that the lock of Hannibal's cage was broken apart.

Taking all his strength he stood up. There was still a dizzy feeling that didn't allow him to put too much trust in his legs, but he could walk.

Supporting himself by laying his arm around Hannibal's shoulder they both dragged themselves upstairs, the pain jerking through Will with every step he made. But the relief he felt canceled out all of it.

"Alana can be still held accountable. A lie from her will give us the opportunity to never worry about being caught again.", Will said, his lips curling to weak smile."But you have to promise that our life has more value than hunting after her."

Their wounds would heal, the foul meat had been cut out and could do no more harm. After everything they would finally be free.

Hannibal let him slide onto the couch as they reached the living room of Frederick' house and then bent down to press his lips on Will's, a kiss that promised more than words would ever do. Finally he was holding Hannibal in is arms again. It took away he breath. He inhaled his significant smell, breathed in the coppery smell of Frederick Chilton's blood on him.

"Have you found closure in all their deaths?", Hannibal asked when their lips parted, still so close to Will that he could feel the warm breath on his face.

"I've let the past go. The picture we painted is different now. It is time to walk away from it."

It was all over now, he had found closure and had paid the price for it. But maybe that had been necessary.

As his eyes found Hannibal's he was reminded of their time in Italy, where they walked through the St. Peter Basilica like they were above the rest of the world. Now they would be able to return one day.

Hannibal got up. "We will have to burn this place down, erase all the traces and memories."

With these words he disappeared from Will's sight to search for what they would need to let the horrors of this house be eaten by flames.

Will stood up and dragged himself to the kitchen. There was one last thing he felt obligated to do, only one trace he had to leave in the US. Before they would leave Virginia forever he had to make sure that he could return to his life with Hannibal.

On the counter he found a piece of paper and a pencil. He started scribbling down the words that crossed his mind. This would have to explain everything to Alana, no matter how far her knowledge about the events of this day reached.

If it was received how he intended he would be able to finally fully savor Hannibal's presence. In his mind Alana was smart enough to still take the deal he had offered her.  
There would be no place denied to them except for wherever she set her foot on. Both her and his and Hannibal's lives could be fully lived once again.

Hope overwhelmed him and almost canceled out the burning in the back of his mind. For the first time in all these tormenting hours that had felt like an eternity he had the urge to smile without holding back any joy.

But his smile faded.

The relief that had spread in his stomach was torn apart, insidious and bitterly. He was trembling and the air was pressed out of his lungs. Yet the shock didn't allow him to come to realize for seconds what had caused the sudden change in sensation.

When the pain flooded his brain and his body allowed him to feel the knife in his back he heard a noise behind him. Instinctively turning around, he looked into Alana's wide eyes, tears streaming down her face. At that moment he realized that Margot was dead.

He could not bring out a word in between desperately gasping for air. And he didn't have to. Carefully Alana wrapped her arms around his shoulders and he accepted the embrace. "I'm so sorry, Will. None of this should have ever happened….", she whispered toneless into his ear, the tears falling onto Will's skin.

Then she let him go and Will sank down on his knees, while the coppery taste of blood spread in his mouth. His hands searched for hold at the counter but he fell inevitably.  
Panting he let the pain slowly take over offering himself to its burning. Warm blood was running down his back while he could feel icy coldness spreading inside.  
Will closed his eyes and at the place of Alana stepped a stream, steadily flowing and becoming one with the blood seeping inside. The water carried him away from all the pain into utter darkness.

* * *

The gas can suddenly was incredible heavy in Hannibal's hand when he stepped back into the living room. For a moment he believed it to be a hallucination but then, as if she had heard his soundless steps Alana turned around to him. Her thin body could not hide Will behind her.  
The knife trembled in her hand and then finally hit the floor with a metallic rattling that let Hannibal shiver.

"They couldn't save her." she uttered as if these words were explanatory for the scene he had stumbled into.

His heart was beating in the same pace as always but his minds was crumbling under the weight of pain. "You left Margot to die." There was no fear reflecting in her eyes, only grief and rage burned up her iris.

The gas can hit the floor and before he knew what he was doing he was crossing the room. "And you took Will's life in exchange." His voice was cold. "He came to save them, he wanted to take the bargain you offered. Why couldn't you be blind, Alana?

Their was barley any distance between the two of them anymore, but Alana did not take a step back to save herself from him.

"This was not meant to hurt Will but you, Hannibal. You denied me my life and now I take away yours….", she cried.

In the end she had made Will pay for what he had done, a thought that brought unbearable pain upon him. He could not forgive Alana and even less he could forgive himself.

Breathing steadily Hannibal's fingers closed around her throat and pressed the air out of her lungs, slowly and calm. The entire time he focused his glare on her face. He did not dare to let his eyes wander down to the floor, where reality was awaiting him ruthlessly.  
She didn't fight back and welcomed certain death, looking him into the eyes while life was leaving her body. He let her fall onto the stone floor heedlessly.

Will in his arms Hannibal stepped into the cold of winter, leaving the burning house behind. Thick swaths of smoke darkened the sky above it while flames licked up the windows and devoured Alana.

Will had stopped bleeding, his body was not more than a vessel now while his mind would forever become a part of the memory palace. He would find his place in Norman Chapel, where Hannibal would always wait for him.  
Numbed by the cold wind he finally dared to look at his motionless face, that seemed so peaceful resting in his hand. The man had offered him the gift of eternal freedom all along and now he had it, and it meant nothing in a world without Will Graham.

In the midday sun Will resembled a destroyed Michelangelo sculpture, with his marble skin wounded and yet so beautiful in death.

* * *

 **So this is the ending of "meat's back on the menu"... Believe me I felt horrible letting Will die...**

 **Thank you for reading, I hope you could enjoy it!** **I know this fanfiction is far from perfect, but well, everybody has to start somewhere, right?  
So please let me know what you think about this ending, I would love to read your thoughts.**

 **And thank you all so much for your reviews and favorites in the last months, they always motivated me to write. I'd also like to mention my best friend who was helping me out as a beta reader.**

 **Have a great day!**


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